



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.! 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. J 
















THE 


GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


y 

By C. J. G., 


AUTHOR OF “RUTH DERWENT,” “BESSIE HARTWELL,” ETC. 



NEW YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY T. Y. CROWELL. 

744 Broadway. 

OK 




COPYRIGHT. 

T. Y. CROWELL. 
1876. 


Franklin Press: 
Stereotyped and Printed by 
Rand, Avery, & Co. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE. 

The Dorcas Society 5 

CHAPTER II. 

Small Victories 27 

CHAPTER III. 

Deputation from the Enemy’s Country .... 39 

CHAPTER IV. 

A Traitor in the Camp 54 

CHAPTER V. 

“Breakers Ahead” 6S 

CHAPTER VI. 

Ordered to the Front 88 

CHAPTER VII. 

“ Hilt to Hilt, and Speech to Speech ” . . . . 103 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Sorely Beset 118 

CHAPTER IX. 

Halloway Ridge 132 

CHAPTER X. 

Fellow-Soldiers 146 

3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XI. 

PAGE. 

“They also Serve who only Stand and Wait” . . 164 

CHAPTER XII. 

“ Songs in the Night ” 176 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Guard-Duty 100 

^CHAPTER XIY. 

Garrison Service 208 

CHAPTER XY. 

Christmas 218 

CHAPTER XYI. 

An Old Battle-Ground 232 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A Wintry Campaign 244 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A Victory which was almost a Defeat .... 254 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Secret Service 263 

CHAPTER XX. 

Home from the Fight 272 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 

I T was the opening year of our war, — the great war 
of the Rebellion. South Carolina had struck the 
first blow for her so-called rights, and the North was 
rallying its strength and prowess for resistance. Sum- 
ter had fallen, the Union troops had been attacked in 
Baltimore, and the news of Ellsworth’s tragical death 
had thrilled the hearts of the Northern patriots ; mat- 
ters of little moment, perhaps, in the long annals of 
blood which followed, but the great events of their lives 
to those who never marched beyond them. Confusion 
and bloodshed were rife at the South ; but in the 
Northern towns and villages, and among the quiet hills 
and valleys of New England, men were only now awak- 
ing to the consciousness that they lived in wonderful 
days, in times to “ try their souls,” and put courage and 
patriotism to the proof. Strange events were taking 
place, which had no relation to seed-time or harvest, 
ploughing, or grinding corn. The hearts of the people 
were stirred within them, and patriots were born in a 

1 * 5 


6 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


day. Among the quiet villages, as well as in the midst 
of the conflict, there were men, and women too, who 
put their hands to this newer work, and wrought as 
worthily by their labors and prayers, as many a sunburnt 
soldier with sword and rifle. 

“ God seeth not as man seeth.” Doubtless he saw 
hardened, battle-scarred soldiers among these far-away 
workers, who knew well the meaning of a conflict, 
although they had never smelt powder or carried a 
musket. For battles are fought to the death, and most 
gloriously won, which are unrecorded this side of 
heaven, though deadly wounds may mark them. Many 
who are brave to face a rifle would shrink from this 
subtler warfare. 

In these pleasant days of May, Southcliff was begin- 
ning to open its eyes and ears, and become suddenly in 
haste to distinguish itself, and to give its active spirits 
an opportunity to be up and doing. But, as the minds 
of Southcliff folks were always in strange disunion, the 
restless little village might almost as well have kept its 
eyes and ears closed, for any wise or prudent thing it 
had done or was likely to do. We are told that “ in the 
multitude of counsellors there is safety ; ” but it would 
be well that those in council should agree on one or two 
simple points, before we can trust to them for very sage 
decisions. 

A meeting was called in Southcliff to talk over ways 
and means, and to decide what such feeble hands might 
do to help the great Republic, as Squire Parsons set 
forth in his opening address. The meeting was held at 
Deacon Marshall’s in Cliff Lane ; and the deacon, who 
was a leading spirit in the neighborhood, seemed always 
to draw together, like wandering King David, all the 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


7 


energetic and discontented and self-willed of the vil- 
lage. Each of these came furnished with his own cher- 
ished views on the subject in question, and which he 
was not minded lightly to yield. 

Unhappily the young pastor was detained by illness 
from this first meeting, and each felt at greater liberty 
to set his own opinion in the most favorable light. 

Deacon Marshall, whose impulsive nature often car- 
ried him to extremes, urged the raising of a company 
of Southcliff recruits before another day was over, lie 
felt strongly convinced that this was a righteous cause, 
and that every man in the village should stand ready 
to take up arms in defence of his country. Every wo- 
man should be willing, like the Spartan women of old, 
to buckle the armor on her husband or son, and send 
him off with her blessing. If she had no son or hus- 
band, she should strive more earnestly in prayer for 
those who were more blessed. 

Work and prayer must go together, hand in hand. 
And this — though he meant no offence to the Lydias 
and Tabithas, the true “mothers in Israel” — was, to 
his mind, far more to the point than making blankets 
and shirts and jellies and “ sasses.” These were well 
enough, all well enough in their place ; but what the 
country wanted was men , — strong men to fight her 
battles, and he rather fancied that blankets and jellies 
would make babies of - them all. Let the money go 
for powder and shot, and Bibles, and send the South- 
cliff boys to the front. If they couldn’t do better, 
he stood ready, like Gideon, to lead them himself; for 
his grandfather fought in the old Revolution, and, 
unworthy as he felt himself to be, the deacon stood 
ready to follow in such honorable footsteps. 


8 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Although every one knew that Deacon Marshall's 
heart was in the right place, standing hard by his con- 
science, yet his words had touched some delicate points 
too rudely. When, quite overcome, he paused for a 
moment, to take breath, Mrs. Job Horn’s shrill treble 
broke suddenly upon the silence. 

It was all very fine for the deacon to run on like 
a stump-speaker, she said. It showed very clearly to 
her mind how little he knew of human natur’, and how 
he warn’t no more to be depended on than her little 
Peggy. She guessed he might thank his stars when he 
got a chance to lord it over her boys, while her name 
was Mehitable Horn. 

Mrs. Eli Marsey took up the refrain. This good- 
natured, motherly lady was quite a celebrity in South- 
cliff, — being head of the Dorcas Society, and Female 
Missionary Society, chief counsellor to all foolish young 
men and women, and withal the most wonderful maker 
of pies and gingerbread on the Cliff. 

She guessed Deacon Marshall wanted his sister back 
from Posting, she said. He’d been so long without the 
comforts of a home, that he’d come to forget what they 
were like. She knew good strong men who could eat 
hull jars of apple-sass, and make no bones of it, neither ; 
she rather thought she could remember the time when 
he’d do it himself. And, as to blankets, she didn’t 
believe in folks cryin’ down the bridge that carried ’em 
over. She didn’t want hard feelin’s, for no one set 
more by Deacon Marshall than she did ; but, if she might 
be so bold as to think he meant her for a Tabitha, then 
she thought the best thing the women could do, was to 
have a mammoth Dorcas meeting once or twice a week. 
They could all come to her house and welcome : 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


9 


“ father ” wouldn’t mind. All must come and set to 
with a will, scrapin’ lint and cuttin’ bandages, besides 
makin’ shirts and apple-sass, — with a laughing look of 
defiance at the deacon, — and the men-folks might 
come along to supper, and empty their pocket-books to 
help the good work along. 

At this, Squire Parsons rose majestically, and waved 
his hands for silence. After waiting to clear his throat, 
and arrange his long bony fingers at right angles, he 
proceeded to give his views in the matter. Speaking 
rather slightingly of Deacon Marshall’s scheme, he pro- 
posed, rather, that the “parson” should deliver a course 
of lectures in the schoolhouse, on “ The Past and 
Present History of our Country,” or, “ The Rise and 
Progress of the American Republic,” — he merely threw 
out these titles as suggestions : any thing similar would 
do as well. In this way, the u parson ” would not only 
be enabled to contribute his mite in the labor of his 
brain, but the minds of the community would be en- 
lightened, and each child become familiar with the cause 
for which they were struggling, while the proceeds of 
admission would help to provide magazines and useful 
reading for the brave soldiers who were dying on the 
field of battle. 

As Squire Parsons resumed his seat, meek little 
Elder Pledwin put his cheery face in the foreground, 
and petitioned warmly for a prayer-meeting. “ I think 
we have all made one mistake, my brethren,” he said : 
“ we must not only work and talk, but pray ; for ‘prayer 
brings every blessing from above.’ All who want our 
cause to prevail should pray for it, my brethren.” 

This was not the end of the meeting, but this was its 
actual result; for the assembly, having no acknowledged 


10 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


head, still talked at cross-purposes, and could come to 
no decision. 

Mrs. Marsey, who had the young minister under her 
own roof, indulged him, on her return home, with a 
characteristic account of the meeting. Mr. Hilton, 
being a wise young man for his years, agreed with 
every one in a measure, as far as his conscience would 
allow ; and proposed, by uniting every one’s views, to 
have a grand work under way in each particular regard. 
Above all, he would advocate a prayer-meeting and a 
mammoth Dorcas Society at once. 

In this way the wandering ends of Southcliff wit and 
harmony were knitted together by a quiet, ready hand, 
which made no pretension toward any great share in the 
matter ; for while many rejoiced in the unity which 
followed, wondering secretly how it had been brought 
about, the minister looked on and rejoiced with them, 
not thinking to take credit to himself for this simplest 
of his duties, — “ casting oil on troubled waters.” 

This pleasant Wednesday afternoon, the first Dorcas 
meeting for the soldiers was to be held at Mrs. Eli 
Marsey’s, in her great, hospitable sitting-room. Every 
one was charged to come provided with a thimble, as 
no one would be exempt from sewing for any specious 
excuse. As Mrs. Horn very pointedly observed, “ If 
folks only came for their supper and nonsense, they 
were welcome to keep to home.” 

There could not have been a pleasanter day, or a 
softer and mellower afternoon. On either side of the 
long village street, the new maple leaves fluttered in 
the breezes from the west ; the new grass, tender and 
green, was under foot all the way ; while, here and there 
by the roadside, violets and dandelions, and a few fresh 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


11 


field-daisies, tempted one to loiter and gather them. 
Every thing was alight with the fresh young life of 
spring, — the very same life, in a different form, as that 
which danced in Elizabeth Denwitt’s eyes, and glowed 
in her rounded cheeks, as she stood before her small 
looking-glass that afternoon, and dressed for the Dorcas 
meeting. This was her spring-time too: daisies and 
violets grew for her on every pleasant bank, and she 
made the most of them. 

She had a small, plain room for her own ; but very 
likely she found flowers even there, when her temper was 
suited to them. Her bedstead and bureau were only 
of stained cherry wood; and the chairs were rush- 
bottomed, straight-backed, and uncomfortable, handed 
down from the time when 44 Grandmother Den wit t ” first 
went to housekeeping. Her bowl and pitcher were of 
a different date in the family annals, and diverse in 
pattern ; the one setting forth Chinese pagodas in blue, 
and the other, strange, indescribable birds and flowers, 
in a dull, faded red. But these facts only vexed her 
at odd times, when the world seemed to go wrong with 
her. Her own little fingers had helped to fashion the 
dingy rag-carpet; and the window-curtains had once 
been a wrapper of 44 mother’s : ” yet, for all these things, 
there was a noticeable air of sunshine in the small room, 
apart from the material light which gleamed in at the 
window; excepting, of course, on those dreary days 
when its inmate was vexing her mind over impossibil- 
ties, — secret longings for a Brussels carpet and Not- 
tingham lace curtains, with visions of black walnut 
furniture, and a real china toilet-set, — when she 44 sup- 
posed she was meant for a lady, but it hadn’t seemed to 
come right.” 


12 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


n It ” didn’t quite seem to be “ coming right,” this 
Wednesday afternoon. 

The old clock in the kitchen had just finished strik- 
ing three, with its great, palpitating voice ; and precisely 
at three the workers were to gather with their thimbles 
and scissors in Mrs. Marsey’s sitting-room ; but here 
was Elizabeth Denwitt’s white dress lying across the 
bed, and her fingers still impatiently at work pinning 
up her sunny braids of hair. “ It wouldn’t go right, 
any way you could fix it,” she cried, stamping her foot 
slightly, and drawing up a little knot on her forehead ; 
“ things always went wrong when one felt in a hurry.” 

“ Learn a lesson in patience, then, child,” said a hard 
melancholy voice, from behind the calico window-cur- 
tain : “ this life is but a fleeting show, when all’s said.” 
Every word came forth with its separate accent, like 
rain-drops pattering on the window glass. 

The young girl gave an impatient jerk to her hair, 
which resulted in pulling down one-half of it. 

“ I didn’t call you up to preach to me, Martha,” she 
said. 

A heavy sigh came from behind the half-drawn cur- 
tain, with the rustling of a newspaper ; then profound 
silence followed, in the course of which the snowy 
muslin dress was adjusted in its place, and fastened 
with a knot of blue ribbon at Libby’s white throat. 

“ Come, Martha, quick ! the rose now,” she cried, 
throwing herself down on one of the straight-backed 
chairs : “ quite low on the left side — so,” pointing out 
a certain corner of her pretty brown head, while she 
kept tapping her foot impatiently on the old rag-carpet. 

Martha Denwitt turned slowly from the window, and, 
laying down “ The South cliff Courier,” took a pretty 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


IB 


blush rosebud from a glass of water on the bureau, and 
shook off the drops from its stem, with the air of a 
martyr. 

She was a tall angular woman of forty years or over. 
All the life and freshness, which made spring-time and 
joy for her little sister, had faded away from her weary 
sallow face. She had never found the time to gather 
flowers in da}^s gone by, or so few of them, that the 
restless black e} r es seemed always looking anxiously for 
something she had missed. Life to her, so far as this 
world was concerned, seemed a bitter failure — a con- 
stant reaching-out for things which she never grasped : 
there seemed no love or beauty left in it. Yet, after all, 
this woman was a soldier. 

44 Do be spry, Martha,” cried the little lady. 44 It’s 
near four o’clock, and it does vex me so to be late any- 
where ! There — not that way ! Dear, what a fright I 
am ! You always manage to get every thing askew, and 
this horrid looking-glass makes it worse. Just let it 
droop naturally — so.” 

Martha heaved another weary sigh. 

44 That’s all the thanks one gets for trying to please 
you, Elizabeth.” 

44 People shouldn’t always be looking for thanks,” 
was the tart little answer. 

44 It’s well for some people that they can do without 
them,” Miss Denwitt replied, while she very ungra- 
ciously re-arranged the choice little rosebud, which 
could scarcely be made to look ungraceful or ill-placed, 
on Libby’s dainty brown head. 

Meanwhile this small specimen of ingratitude sat 
gnawing her nether lip, being vexed with her own 
naughtiness, almost as much as with the grievances that 
2 


14 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


met her; magnifying her sins in her own wilful way, 
and growing very contrite over them, yet not quite 
liking to confess them yet. 

“ There,” said Martha, ungraciously submissive : 
“ look now and see if it suits.” 

Miss Elizabeth released her tortured lip, and turned 
away from the small looking-glass, to confront her 
stately sister. 

“ I was cross, wasn’t I, Mart? ” she said abruptly. 

“ Oh ! that’s nothing new, child : I’m used to it now,” 
Martha answered, sighing. 

“ Well, it’s a shame ; I declare it’s too bad,” cried 
Libby, throwing her arms about her sister’s neck. “ I 
was outrageously cross ; but I’m sorry, oh ! no end 
sorry.” 

“ Oh ! yes, you’re always sorry,” Martha returned, 
quite unsoftened. “ I did hope, when you joined the 
church, tliere’d be some change in you for the better ; 
but it’s just the same as ever.” 

“ O Martha ! is it though ? ” said Libby, a great cloud 
overshadowing the happiness in her face. “ I do try to 
do right, but every thing will go wrong.” 

“ Yes, like enough,” said Martha, in a dry, weary 
tone : “ it’s the way of things. It has to be fight and 
struggle, struggle and fight, day in and day out.” 

“ But you’ll forgive and forget, there’s a dear? ” said 
the girl, growing a little impatient, as the old clock 
began striking four. 

“ Yes, Lizabetli, until seventy times seven. I always 
forgive you, child.” 

Elizabeth Denwitt turned away, not laughing now, 
as she sometimes did, at her sister’s austere fancies. 
She wrapped her pretty blue cloak around her, drawing 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


15 


the hood over her small head with its troublesome rose- 
bud. After that she went out of the garden gate, and 
walked slowly down the long road, where the dande- 
lions were growing in the grass, and the snowdrops 
were white in the borders. She seemed to have left her 
haste behind her, with her temper, in the little cramped 
bedchamber. 

Would it always be so much easier to do wrong than 
right ? It seemed to her that there were more tempta- 
tions than ever these last few weeks, and she more ready 
to yield to them. “ Fight and struggle, struggle and 
fight, day in and day out,” — such a warfare with no 
end to it! how could she ever bear her part? Other 
soldiers had long rests at times, until they longed for a 
battle ; but not she. How pleasant it would be to lay 
down her arms, and be at rest a little ! how tired she 
was of struggling with herself ! 

Libby forgot the Dorcas Society for a time ; and, sit- 
ting down on a piece of broken fence, she threw back 
her hood, and fell to dreaming. As she dreamt, the 
lights and shadows came and went on her face, as they 
do on the landscape at sunset. 

“Fight and struggle, day in and day out.” Well, 
she had no idea of giving it up ; but what ’was it all for, 
and what would come of it ? All her struggling seemed 
to end just where it began, and leave her no better, as 
Martha said, than she had been at first. These soldiers 
who were doing battle in the South knew very well 
for what they were fighting, had the end and the means 
so plainly set before them, that “ whoso ran might 
read.” 

And she? 

Ah ! there seemed no victory in all her fighting. She 


16 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


longed to please her Master ; but she had hoped that, 
through struggle, strength would come. 

But had she not the means and the end set before 
her too ? — her arms the 44 strength of the Lord,” and 
her goal that “ Well done, good and faithful servant,” 
which her dear Captain would speak to all who loved 
and served him in the fight ; with the 44 crown of life,*’ 
with which no earthly 44 Cross of the Legion ” could 
ever think to compare. 

What better end could be than this ? 

And, if this was the end, would not all the struggling 
and fighting in some way lead to it ? — in some way : 
she knew very little how, she cared very little. Only 
surely it was all right; and she must walk by faith, 
where sight had been denied her. 

And while all these other fights would end, and the 
rulers and captains and soldiers would make peace, this 
could only cease with the stilled breath and closed eye- 
lids ; for how could one make peace with sin, and not 
be a traitor, a 44 wicked and slothful servant,” unworthy 
of his colors and his Lord ? This fight, which was 
waging the whole world round, this constant guard 
and ever-vigilant duty, would end for each good soldier 
with the shroud and coffin here , and the sentence passed 
up yonder. 

Meanwhile, in the midst of this great warfare, on 
the very battle-field, she had forgotten her duty, to fret 
over such a trifling thing as a rosebud. 

44 And I don’t care,” she cried passionately, with hot 
cheeks and eager eyes. 44 1 don’t care for a thing but 
just my dear Lord’s blessing, and his 4 Well done.’ I 
don’t, — I’m very sure I don’t. I won’t wear the 
wretched little rose. It was all vanity in me, to look 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


IT 


better than the other girls — there ! ” And, snatching 
out the pins which Martha had put in so carefully, she 
pulled out the rosebud, and threw it in the middle of 
the road. 

u Now,” she said, laughing gleefully, “since I’ve cast 
out the traitor in the camp, I’m going to battle.” 

44 Going to battle ” might seem quite a strange ex- 
pression, if the battle-field were to be this great, cheerful 
sitting-room of Mrs. Marsey’s, with its bright eyes and 
merry voices. But there have been stranger battle-fields 
than these in the world, and such as these are some- 
times most trying of all ; because one is apt, like Libby, 
almost to forget the -fight the moment they catch sight 
of the foe. 

There went an ominous whisper about one corner of 
the room, as Libby made her appearance, with great 
rustling of dresses, and moving of chairs. 

u Here comes Libby Denwitt ; girls, make room. Do 
pick up that shirt, Clem, and draw in your chair. — Oh, 
so late ; aren’t you ashamed ? Some people only come 
for the 4 supper and fun ’ — fie, fie ! ” 

44 I’ll warrant she didn’t bring her thimble, this 
naughty Elizabeth.” 

44 Here, Lib, sit just there. Whatever have you been 
doing all this time ? ” 

Libby meanwhile flung back a saucy answer to one, 
stretched out her little hand to another, and bestowed 
a most loving embrace on the first speaker of all ; pass- 
ing over in silence all allusions to 44 fun and supper.” 
She knew right well her own position as prime favorite 
among the Southcliff girls; but it is doubtful if she very 
often remembered the warning, 44 Woe unto you when 
all men shall speak well of you.” 


18 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Now we’ll find the very largest shirt of all, as a 
penance,” said Kate Telfair, the recipient of the em- 
brace, — “a shirt for some stout old commissary, who 
has nothing to do but eat and grow fat.” 

As Libby declared herself ready to do penance in 
any shape it might be imposed, a deputy was sent 
directly to Mrs. Marsey, for the extra shirt ; and then 
it became apparent that Libby had not forgotten her 
thimble, but meant to earn her fun, like the rest of 
them. 

This first Dorcas meeting of the season was a genu- 
ine old-fashioned New England gathering, where, if 
there was a large share of gossip, at least the needles 
flew with the tongues. The hickory logs crackled 
merrily in the great open fireplace, while always, before 
the hungry eyes of this industrious and patriotic sis- 
terhood, a suggestion of supper appeared through the 
half-open door which led to Mrs. Marsey ’s spotless 
kitchen. To be sure, it was the very vaguest sugges- 
tion, — nothing more than the corner of a table-cloth, 
a pile of plates, and the end of a loaf of gingerbread ; 
but this was quite enough to feed the imagination, 
and form a solid foundation for any kind of culinary 
castle. 

About half-past six, there was a visible flagging 
of the busy tongues, which had been going since three 
o’clock ; while at the same time the clatter of dishes 
in the kitchen grew more ominous than ever, and the 
pile of shirts on Mrs. Marsey ’s great pine table very 
nearly toppled over with its own weight. Then, too, 
here and there through the room, a black coat or a 
pair of Sunday pants made their appearance, set off 
with a most fanciful array of neckties and immaculate 
shirt-bosoms. 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


19 


“ Nothing but 4 supper and fun ’ for them, at any 
rate,” said Kate Telfair laughingly, as the vision of 
her own merry brother appeared in the doorway. 

Miss Elizabeth Denwitt had been industrious until 
now, and very full of mischief and frolic, which on 
ordinary occasions could hardly agree. Now her work 
dropped every few moments in her lap, and her eyes 
took a wistful, anxious look, as the}?- turned slowly 
from side to side of the crowded sitting-room, looking 
for some one who had not come. 

“What ails the child,” cried Clemantha Douglass, 
“to be mooning in that fashion ? It’s only Dr. Hopper, 
Lib, in his neat little stove-pipe.” 

“ Oh, yes ! I see,” said Libby, blushing crimson, 
while she took up her work once more, and drew her 
needle in and out with a nervous rapidity. 

“ Ahem ! ” said Kate meaningly : “ don’t be too 
observing, girls. Lib is seriously inclined ; she wants 
a white necktie, among all these gorgeous ones.” 

Libby laughed nervously. 

“ Now what have I done ? ” she cried. “ Can't a 
4 cat look on a king ’ ? and is Dr. Hopper too good to 
be looked at, if he is sporting his best ? ” 

“Dear good man, Dr. Hopper, isn’t he ? ” said Clem. 
“ I don’t believe poor Mr. Pledwin’s better half would 
let him come out to-night. There, Libby, who is it 
now ? ” for Libby’s hands were idle again, and her 
eyes were fastened on the door with that waiting look 
which was not quite usual todhem. 

There ! he has come now, walking off to the table, 
as the others had not done, to speak to* Mrs. Marsey, 
as the hostess of the evening ; then stopping a moment 
to bandy a few jests with her, and help her in counting 


20 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


the spools of cotton, — counting them by newer rules 
of his own, to puzzle the good lady, and bring out her 
rich, hearty laugh. He minded little that some one 
had been watching for him a half-hour past ; and some 
one had ceased watching altogether now. 

He was a tall, broad-shouldered young fellow, in 
gray summer suit, and plain black necktie. His face 
was a manly one, with pleasant dark eyes, but a little 
proud withal, even in its merriment. Underneath the 
dark moustache, his lip had something of a satirical 
curl ; but this was seldom noticed by a casual observer, 
and might not prove unpleasant in ordinary inter- 
course. He was not so handsome as many a young 
farmer in the room, this student, John Hildreth; 
but it was for him, and no other, that Elizabeth Den- 
witt had been watching this afternoon. 

Now, having seen him, she was satisfied ; indeed, 
what did she care for him after all ? She was rather 
curious, perhaps, to see if he cared enough for old 
associations to come to such a meeting as this ; for the 
rest, it made no difference to her at all. And when 
Clemantha Douglass declared with enthusiasm that 
John Hildreth had improved twice over since he was 
last at home, and she supposed it was being valedic- 
torian and all that, which did it, Libby remarked 
with a little toss of her head, that he was the same 
old sixpence, for aught she saw ; and being valedic- 
torian was nothing in the world : any stupid might be 
that. 

She was sorry, however, the moment after, for what 
she had said, — so sorry that she modified her speech: — 

“ I don’t mean that J ohn Hildreth is stupid though, 
Clem ; and perhaps he is a little improved.” 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


21 


But she neglected to mention, that, in her eyes, he 
never had needed improvement, from the time when 
he took her coasting on his sled, and went chestnutting 
with her in Southcliff woods. He only needed one 
thing, she thought, — that “one thing needful.” 

By this time the rooms had become quite uncom- 
fortably full ; and one and another began folding away 
her work, in expectation of supper. 

“ Here comes Mother Marsey, to call the roll,” said 
Libby, in an audible whisper, with a little scornful 
curl of her lip. “ Look out for your characters, girls.” 

“I’m afraid mine is ruined entirely, in that direc- 
tion,” said Lucy Marston merrily ; while she drew forth 
from concealment her own work in a very unfinished 
condition. 

“ I’m afraid you’ll be disciplined,” said Libby lightly, 
“ or brought up before the society.” 

Suddenly John Hildreth, who had been laughing 
and chatting with two or three of these pretty idlers at 
a window close by, turned about, and confronted Libby, 
with a flush half triumphant, half indignant, — 

“ Libby Denwitt,” he said, “ who was head nurse of 
the volunteer force, when you had the typhoid, two 
summers ago ? ” 

That miserable typhoid ! Was she never to forget 
it ? One might reasonably think it sufficient that it left 
her with a close crop of inconvenient ringlets, which 
could not be put up on her head for six months or more ; 
and a susceptibility to “ relapses,” which had made her 
a martyr for a year after, — without having it brought 
up against her in this fashion. Then, remembering in a 
moment the tender old hands, which, though of no kin 
to her and under no obligations, had beaten up pillows, 


22 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


and made jellies and teas without limit for her sake, 
Libby blushed and bit her lip from shame and vexa- 
tion. 

However, she looked up after a moment, in a way 
that John found excessively chilling. 

“ I really don’t see how that should concern you, Mr. 
Hildreth,” she said. 

John Hildreth bowed with mock courtesy, as he 
turned away. 

“ I beg your pardon ; it doesn’t concern me in the 
least,” he answered. 

Then came the roll-call Libby had predicted, ringing 
down from the loaded pine table. 

“Liz’beth, Liz’beth Denwitt, where’s that ere sleeve 
I see you stitchin’ on, more’n an hour ago ? Not done 
yet, I more’n suspicion.” 

“ Not quite, Mrs. Marsey,” called Libby ; letting her 
voice, which was remarkably sweet and pleasant, ring 
clearly up the long room ; and taking, no doubt, a cer- 
tain pleasure to herself in the sound of it. 

“ Clemanthy, Clemanthy Douglass, what’s happened 
to them ere blue flannel trousers, what was goin’ to be 
done sure before the men-folks come?” cried the old 
lady, a little maliciously. 

Clemantha blushed crimson; for, truth to tell, the 
“ men-folks,” above all John Hildreth, had quite driven 
from her mind the “ blue flannel trousers.” 

“ There’s no use in them girls cornin’ to Dorcas, till 
we get the boys off to the front,” Mrs. Marsey con- 
cluded, coming over as rapidly as her size would admit 
to survey this unruly corner. “ I put it to the parson, 
now, if ’tain’t just so.” 

The “ parson,” who, in going his “ rounds,” had only 


THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 


23 


now reached this point of his journey, smiled pleasantly 
at the lady’s appeal, while he held out his hand to one 
and another across the unfinished garments. 

“ If the boys have a call to the front, Mrs. Marsey,” 
he said, “ I say, 4 Let them go,’ with all my heart. Yet 
it seems to me, the longer we can send off our red-fian- 
nel shirts free from tear-drops, the better.” 

“ Why should they not be quite as dry, sir, if the 
boys were at the front? ” asked John Hildreth quickly. 

He was helping Lucy Mars ton wind a spool of cotton, 
which through his agency had become unrolled and 
tangled ; but, though he spoke to Mr. Hilton, he 
turned deliberately about, and looked in Libby’s face. 

There is no doubt that all the evening Libby had 
been wishing to have him look at her, or speak to her, 
or notice her in any way whatever ; yet, when it came, 
she found such notice as this an undesirable thing. 

44 Why, indeed ? ” she replied to his look, half under 
her breath ; and hardly knowing that she said it. 

44 Does Miss Denwitt mean us to understand that Mr. 
Hildreth’s question is answered?” asked Mr. Hilton 
then. 

Libby looked up, and met his eye. Did he, her pastor, 
wish her, then, to show her heart before this man she 
loved; or why was it that all the little guns were 
pointed at her, and she defenceless ? 

44 Perhaps Miss Denwitt has no one to weep for, or 
too few tears at her command to waste them on red 
flannel,” said John indifferently enough, winding the 
last bit of Lucy’s cotton while saying it. 

This was very personal, surely, and drew forth a 
desperate answer, and a rather irrelevant one. 

44 She shall not be utterly bereft,” she ventured, 


24 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


ignoring John’s remark : “ the war will hardly take our 
pastor from us, I suppose.” 

“ But the fun will be gone,” said Clem dolefully ; 
“ no more picnics or straw-rides for this summer.” 

At this John Hildreth, having completed his task, 
turned on his heel, and sauntered off to the fire ; while, 
at the same time, Mrs. Marsey’s round, genial voice 
gave the signal for supper. Such workers as these, 
fresh from the sweet country air and the sunshine, 
used to supping at half after five, scarcely needed a 
second calling. Only one or two more industrious 
ones waited to fold their work ; and the minister lin- 
gered by Libby as she put away her thimble and 
scissors. 

“Would that be any comfort to you?” he asked, 
bending down, and speaking very low. 

“ Which, sir ? ” asked Libby, looking up with a quick, 
rosy flush. 

“Would it be any compensation for the loss of so 
many available friends, and so much enjoyment, that 
one friend should be left behind ? ” 

“ And why not, Mr. Hilton ? ” Libby answered 
brightly, as she rose and took the arm he offered her. 
“ I think we shall all be glad to keep our one man of 
peace.” 

Mr. Hilton seemed gratified and pleased at this rather 
ambiguous response. He led her off into the crowded 
kitchen ; and, finding for her one of the most comforta- 
ble seats in the chimney-corner, he proceeded to make 
several light hearts grow very envious by the care he 
lavished upon her. He was not at all obsequious, how- 
ever, but very kind as a friend ; and all the time there 
seemed to be something on his mind which gave an 
absent look to his face. 


THE DOECAS SOCIETY. 


25 


44 Miss Denwitt,” he said presently, 44 you would have 
more esteem, or admiration perhaps, and more friendly 
regard, for the man who gave his strength for his coun- 
try, than for the 4 man of peace ’ who kept safely shel- 
tered at home.” 

44 How do you know that? ” she asked gently. 

44 I think I have read your character a little : this is a 
thing you cannot control ; but still, Miss Libby, there is 
hard fighting at home sometimes.” 

44 Ah ! I was thinking of it to-night.” 

“ Of the fighting at home ? ” 

44 Of the fighting here” she answered, laying her 
hand on her heart, — “here, and all over the world.” 

44 A great triumphal army, some day, bless God ! ” he 
answered with flashing eyes. 

44 It is so hard always to be fighting,” sighed Libby. 

44 Hard, — yes, it is hard sometimes ; but one grows 
accustomed to armor by and by ; and, in the thick of 
the fight, blows count for little. Only one must never 
try to fight alone.” 

“You will not go to the other war at all, Mr. Hil- 
ton ? ” she asked timidly. 

“ No, Miss Libby, I shall not go,” he answered, smil- 
ing sadly as he spoke. 

44 Not even if we think you a coward for staying ? ” 
she asked, with a winsome, saucy smile. 

He turned and looked at her, searching in her eyes, 
to see if she had meant what she said. It was very 
hard to tell. 

44 Not even in such a case as that, my friend,” he 
answered quietly. 44 You must decide as you see fit. 
I can only ask you to judge me kindly, as you yourself 
would be judged. I lay my cause before a higher tri- 
bunal.” 3 


2G 


TIIE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


No one counted this man for a saint or a martyr ; yet 
he had won a heavy victory within the last few days, 
and offered his dearest wishes in sacrifice, because his 
Master had given him a noble work, and set him to do 
it. He was a New England boy, nourished on patriot- 
ism from his cradle ; for his mother was of the old 
Puritan stock, who ranked her country next to her 
God. And now, when he longed so ardently to prove 
his own soul in an earthly fight, it Avas a bitter thing to 
hear expressed, that he might be thought a coward for 
keeping at his post ; by Libby Denwitt too, of all. 

John Hildreth leaned against a distant Avindow, and 
looked at these tAvo Avhile he drank his coffee. 

“ She’s courting the parson, like the rest of the 
girls,” he said to himself. “No fellow ha& any fair 
show against a Avhite necktie.” 


SMALL VICTORIES. 


27 


CHAPTER II. 


SMALL VICTORIES, 


EANWIIILE Miss Martha Denwitt remained at 



-L-VJ- home, and, after pinning the rose in Libby’s 
hair, went quietly about her every-day work. Dorcas 
meeting of course was out of the question for her, even 
if any one had cared for her coming; because father 
was lonely of an evening, and liked to sit by the fire 
and have some one read a bit of philosophy aloud, and 
bring him a cup of tea and a piece of toast, when he 
cared to take them. This fell to Martha’s share, as 
well as all the heavy burdens in this quiet old-fashioned 
home. It was such a well-established fact, that Martha 
should always keep at home, that even Libby took it as 
a matter of course, and never thought to ask herself as 
to why it must be. “ Martha was so quiet,” or, “ Martha 
never cared for company,” or, “ Martha and father were 
happy together,” — either of these was reason sufficient. 

Libby was not wilfully blind or selfish ; yet if she 
had been a ' little clearer-sighted, and had been taught 
a little by sisterly love, she might have seen that father 
and Martha were not always quite happy together ; and 
even then she would not have seen all the truth, or 
dreamed for a moment that her sister had been trying 
for thirty years to win some manifestation of love from 
a stern, querulous old man who was her father, and 


28 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FATTII. 


yet had failed to the end. She was almost discouraged 
now. Sometimes she found herself wondering if it 
would always be the same, or if some time, in the life that 
came after, he might not lay his hand on her head, and 
bless her for these years of patient self-devotion, — some 
time, if Go.d won him home. 

He was a strange, harsh old man, this father of 
Martha’s. Without pretending to a vestige of personal 
religion, — being an old, hardened sinner for years, — 
he yet seemed to take a weird, fierce pleasure in study- 
ing God’s character, by his words and works, as he read 
it with his own distorted vision. He looked on the 
Father of the universe as a stern Khadamanthus, eter- 
nally sitting in judgment, to eternally condemn. The 
creatures whom he had brought into being were a 
collection of worthless atoms, to be sent by his breath 
whithersoever he listed for a while, then crushed 
together in his hand, and flung back to their original 
dust. There might be a few called blessed among these 
atoms, two or three in a generation, who would be 
permitted to sit on thrones, judging among their fel- 
lows : he believed there were. 

His creed was as crude as a pagan mythology, as 
severe as some of the old dogmas of pagan philosophers : 
indeed, he was little short of a pagan himself, this 
strange old man. He had patched together his belief 
and his duty according to his own ideas, choosing him- 
self for his own taskmaster and judge. There were 
certain things which he set himself to do with all strict- 
ness, and certain bounds which he never passed. He 
observed the sabbath with the strictness of the old 
Mosaic ritual ; but never went near the house of God, 
or exchanged a word with a minister. He never pre- 


SMALL VICTORIES. 


29 


tended to be a Christian ; yet, if any one about him 
made a profession of Christianity, he held them to the 
mark with all the rigor of an old-time inquisitor. For 
all such weakness he showed a scornful intolerance 
which should have warranted infinite strength in him- 
self. No one in South cliff could comprehend him, or 
grow quite used to the Hebrew prophecies and denun- 
ciations which were always on his tongue, and his 
hard, rough old heart, which made a prison of his home. 
They were startled anew each time they heard his old, 
worn-out declaration, that he, George Denwitt, was as 
good and saintly as any man that walked God’s earth. 

Village gossips maintained that his sorrows had 
turned his mind a little. Perhaps they were not far 
wrong, and the strong mind was failing where the 
strong heart kept up a brave front to its foes. 

To all these things Libby paid little heed. She loved 
her sister dearly, and, except for her outer crust of 
harshness, would have loved her better still. As for 
her father, after a story some one had told her, she 
looked at him always through rose-colored spectacles. 
She heard that once, when Martha was a little girl, he 
had been a loving, happy man ; and a patient little wife 
had won many a smile to his lips, which now had nearly 
forgotten the art of smiling. This little wife, creeping 
into his heart, had softened the rough spots in his 
character, giving a touch of tenderness to even his stiff, 
old-fashioned ways. Through love for her, he learned 
to love the birds in the coppice, and the daisies in the 
field, to see all things through her joy-reflecting eyes. 
“ For a little child shall lead them ; ” and this child-wife, 
with her gentle fingers, had led him into pleasant and 
kindly paths. 


80 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


There came a clay when, with only a few hours’ 
warning, the little wife, who was also Martha’s mother, 
was called to leave her gentle ministry ; and he saw the 
new sods laid over her in the churchyard. This blow 
it was, which had changed and distorted all his life, 
from that time onward, had closed his heart against all 
thoughts of a merciful God, and filled it with a great, 
abiding consciousness of an angry and ever-present 
Judge. 

God’s loving chastisement, which should have been 
a blessing, by his own free will he changed into a curse. 
Pie missed seeing the Father who corrects in the fulness 
of a pitying love, and saw an angry king, ruling his 
rebel subjects with a rod of iron, in just but crushing 
retribution. 

In course of time the dead wife’s place was filled 
again ; but the new wife had quite a different husband 
from the old, and failed to fill the vacant corner of his 
heart. All the sunshine of her nature was quenched in 
a year ; and, as she could no more live without sunlight 
than a rose or a lily, she died as they would die, from 
too much shadow, — died, and went from a very weary 
world. She was, like her little daughter Elizabeth, 
unable to comprehend or lighten the darkness of the 
times on which she had fallen. 

No one had ever mentioned her to Libby, by more 
than a passing word. It seemed like a dream to every 
one, — the year she had lived in Southcliff. But the 
story of Martha's mother had strayed in the younger 
sister’s way ; and, thoughtless as she was, she held it 
always before her, in all thought of her father. She 
tried, too, to give him cheer and sunshine, out of her 
rich abundance ; and, if for reward she was always 


SMALL VICTOR IES. 


31 


sternly repulsed, what did it matter to her ? She could 
go out for her sunshine, where it fell for her all around. 
But Martha was always in the shadow. Martha had 
been trying to warm an icicle in her bosom until her 
own heart was growing cold with it. If she, too, could 
only go out in the world, she thought, and hear a little 
of the pleasant laughter that was in it ! But that was 
for Libby, not her. 

“ Martha Denwitt never cares for visiting,” the neigh- 
bors said ; “ likes nothing better than to sit over the fire 
and find fault. A real old fossil, between you and me.” 
And Martha did seem very like a fossil. 

She stood that afternoon at the gate, and watched her 
sister pass down between the maple-trees, watched her 
with a little envious feeling at first, until she saw her 
sit down by the roadside : then with a little sigh, she 
exclaimed aloud, — 

“ There, she’ll ketch cold, and be laid up now, sure 
as any thing ! ” 

The sun threw long shadows across the road, like the 
shadows in Martha’s life ; and she began to think how 
strange it was that some people should pass a lifetime 
trying to win the love of one person, which never came 
to reward them for their labor, 'while others passed 
along the world gathering love like flowers on every 
hand, with only the trouble to stoop and pluck them ; 
no ploughing, or sowing of seed, only the pleasant har- 
vest time — and such a bountiful harvest! so many 
flowers that they have no place for them. 

But then God knew where to scatter flowers, and 
there was a blessing for the forsaken ones who missed 
them. 

“ Martha, Martha, what’s o’clock ? ” came from the 
kitchen fire in her father’s dry, hard tones. 


32 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


This was reality, — sober potatoes and squashes of 
every-day life, sometimes even burdock and mullein, as 
Martha fancied. 

But she turned, only stopping a moment to put back 
a rose-brancli that had fallen across the pathway, as she 
put the fancies from the pathway of her heart, and then 
walked into the kitchen. 

“What's o’clock, Martha, I say?” growled the old 
man. 

“ Only a quarter after four, father : ’tain’t time for 
supper. Take your stick and walk out in the shrub- 
bery, while I iron off your neckerchiefs, and set the 
kettle boiling.” 

“ Such things ain’t for me, such things ain’t for me,” 
he answered, shaking his head slowly from side to side. 
“ The delights of this world and the sunshine ain’t to 
my mind, Martha. It’s almost over, and then comes 
judgment.” 

Martha sighed. If the delights of the world were 
only such as these, she would be glad to leave them. 

“ Where’s the child ? ” he asked shortly. 

“ Gone to Dorcas-meeting, father,” Martha replied, 
getting out her ironing-board. 

“ Vanity and show, vanity and show,” he muttered : 
“ the people of the world are like grasshoppers.” 

The tears sprang to Martha’s eyes. All that after- 
noon her heart had been crying out, with an exceeding 
bitter cry, for a little tenderness and pity. She crept 
up behind the old man; as he sat nursing his stick, 
and holding his best-beloved theological treatise on his 
knee. There was no encouragement for Martha, no 
white flag hung out to her ; but she laid her head down 
on his shoulder, and put her arm about his neck. She 
was trying to take the citadel unawares. 


SMALL VICTORIES. 


33 


“What can I do to comfort you, father?” she said. 

“ Comfort ! what has comfort to do with perishing 
mortals ? ” he cried harshly. “ Don’t fondle me, wo- 
man : life is too short for sentiment.” 

“ Let us love one another, for love is of God, and 
every one that loveth is born of God,” said a voice 
deep down in Martha’s heart, as she lifted her tired 
head. 

Very many tired heads there are, that, like hers, have 
no place to rest them. 

As Martha smoothed the neckerchiefs, and got ready 
her father’s tea, she wondered in herself, if it were 
right or wise, that she should spend all her heart on 
this one old man, while there were so many all over 
the world, her brothers, who needed loving too. 

After the supper was over (a chill and comfortless 
supper it was) Martha cleared the dishes away, and then 
sat down with her knitting, while her father pored over 
his book. 

The sun was low in the west; and Martha had a 
longing to sit at the window, and watch the changing 
colors as they faded from crimson and gold to the deli- 
cate blush of the sunset. That would have been van- 
ity: sometimes it almost seemed as if her every-day 
work were vanity too. 

While she sat there, her brain was busy as her fin- 
gers ; and the thoughts within it brought a smile to her 
face at last. 

She rose quietly, and lighted a candle at the dresser, 
then turned and looked anxiously toward the fire. 
As the old man paid no heed to her movements, she 
made bold to leave the room, setting the door a little 
ajar, that she might hear the least sound of her name. 


84 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


She carried the candle upstairs to a dark cupboard 
on the second floor, which belonged to herself by 
undisputed right of possession. 

Setting the candle on a wide, unplaned shelf, she 
opened a drawer somewhat lower down, and began a 
diligent search among its contents. She was rewarded 
presently, by the “ turning-up ” of a package of blue 
navy-shirts, something the worse for wear, yet laid 
away with a suggestive carefulness which betokened 
a value of their own. These were shirts that “ Brother 
Ben” — Martha’s only brother — had worn the year 
before he died. He was buried in the sea, nine months 
after she made them for him. He had been a wild 
young fellow ; and no one but herself thought of , 
treasuring his memory. 

She did ; oh, yes ! She remembered some things 
that others had never known ; how he used to throw 
his arms about her neck, when he bade her good-by, 
and whisper in her ear, “ I’m going to be a real good 
tip-top fellow this time, just for your sake — honor 
bright, Mart.” 

He wasn’t very loving or amenable to others ; but 
to her he had seemed the boy “ of her right hand,” 
sometimes, in years gone by. 

She laid the shirts aside, and drew out a blue yarn 
stocking, tied up at the end with a bit of red tape. 
She pondered over this antiquated relic, before she 
ventured to open it. 

“Twenty dollars,” she mused, — “twenty dollars 
and fifty-four cents. It’s all I’ve saved for two years ; 
and I meant to get a new black silk in the fall. Mrs. 
Horn got a real han’some one at Boston for twenty.” 

She untied the stocking then, and drew the money 


SMALL VICTORIES. 


35 


out piece by piece ; each piece possessing the just 
value of scarcity in Miss Martha Denwitt’s eyes. 

“ Well, I guess black silk is really a 4 vanity,’ ” she 
concluded with a long-drawn breath, which was akin 
to a sigh, — 44 and, if I give it at all, I’ll give it willing. 
Twenty dollars ain’t worth cryin’ over, anyhow ; but I 
make sure ’twill buy a right good parcel of tracts and 
sermons for them poor boys at the front. And law ! 
God don’t care whether I'm dressed in silk or wool- 
sey.” 

The stocking was laid by with the shirts ; and, after 
it came a great roll of flannel, and some old linen 
which had been in the Denwitt family long before 
Martha herself. 

44 They’ll all be good for something,” she said. 44 1 
can’t go to Dorcas, and I don’t suppose anybody wants 
me ; but these old bundles can go instead of me. 
Every little helps.” 

And she added softly, — thinking meanwhile of the 
twenty dollars, and the black silk dress for which she 
would have to wait another two years yet, — “He 
knows all about it.” 

There was a battle won in this part of the field, — 
an unproclaimed victory. 

Meanwhile supper was ended at Mrs. Marsey’s. 
The great kitchen clock had struck eight a half-hour 
ago, while here and there the busiest workers were 
beginning to put up their thimbles, and to talk of home 
and early hours. 

Libby wandered back alone into the sitting-room, 
and caught sight of Mrs. Marsey folding up the 
finished garments at her long pine table. Her con- 
science smote her anew for the careless words she had 


36 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


spoken a few moments before ; and she longed by some 
little act of kindness to atone to the good lady for her 
thoughtless jests. This was why she stole over to 
Mrs. Marsey’s side, and, under pretence of carrying 
back her own work, began stealthily to help in folding 
up the work of the company. 

44 Oh ! law, let them duds alone, child,” said the 
capable first-directress. 

“ You look tired to death, Mrs. Marsey,” Libby 
rejoined in her most winsome way, — and she had very 
winsome ways, as every one knew, — “let me help a 
little, 4 for conscience’ sake.’ ” 

“Bless her dear little soul!” said the good old 
lady, pausing a moment, with her hands on her hips, 
in the midst of the confusion about her: “run back 
to the rest on ’em, deary, and never mind an old body 
like me.” 

“ But I will," the “ dear little soul ” insisted merrily, 
“ just such a kind old body as you.” 

After a hearty laugh together, they worked on 
silently for a while, until Libby ventured a remark. 

“ Mrs. Marsey,” she said in her straightforward way, 
“I am sorrier than I can tell — and 4 honor bright,’ — 
I love you ever so much ; but I laughed at you, — made 
fun of you, I mean, — a little while ago, you know, — 
about your calling the roll, and all that.” 

Mrs. Marsey paused a moment to take in “ the situa- 
tion ; ” then, putting her two capacious hands on her 
very capacious sides, she indulged in a long, cheery 
laugh. 

“ Well, I be a funny old woman, ben’t I ? ” she said. 
44 Bless you, dear ! ’tain’t no odds. Laugh away, if it 
makes you happy.” 


SMALL VICTORIES. 


3T 


As she spoke, two strong hands from behind took 
forcible possession of Libby’s restless, busy little mem- 
bers. 

“ It was no concern of mine, none whatever,” said 
their owner saucily ; “ but, after all, my words worked 
as well the parson’s, and better, Miss Denwitt .” 

u Do go away, and quit prying into your neighbor’s 
affairs, Mr. Hildreth,” cried Libby, pulling away her 
hands. 

Whereupon John laughed exultantly, but refused 
to go, insisting that he should share in folding up the 
shirts, as he might wear them before very long — or 
others like them. 

He glanced at Libby as he spoke, to spy out a flushed 
cheek or quivering eyelid, — any little sign that be- 
tokened she would grieve to have him go. 

Libby’s eyelids were dropped before, but she raised 
them now', and looked at him steadfly a moment. 

“ You will have graver work then than folding up 
shirts, John,” she said. 

That was all : there was no sign to tell him whether 
this Libby Denwitt loved him or not. 

“ May I walk home with you to-night, Libby ? ” he 
asked, bending toward her, and speaking low, that Mrs. 
Marsey might not hear. 

“Thank you !” she answered a little indifferently ; 
“ but I have a small business matter to talk over with 
Kate Telfair, and I have promised to walk up with Jim 
and her.” 

John turned abruptly, and walked from the table, 
somewhat out of sorts with the “ small matter of busi- 
ness,” as well as the little lady whom it concerned ; and 
Libby walked home without him. 


38 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Martha met her on the doorstep with a candle. 

“ It’s late,” she said : “ near ten o’clock, and father 
wouldn’t go up till you come home. You ought to have 
a little more consideration at your age. Wipe the mud 
off your feet, and don’t stand as if you was dazed. 
Now bid father good-night.” 

Libby put her pretty, flushed face, with the smiles 
still lingering about it, in through the kitchen-door, and 
said, “ Good-night, father.” 

“ Humph! nearer morning,” said the gruff old voice. 
“We won’t have any more such goings-on, Elizabeth.” 

“ Such as what, father ? ” she asked, adjusting her 
rose-colored glasses. 

“ Don’t parley with me, but go to your room, young 
woman.” 

She stole away cautiously then, to avoid any further 
complaint, and took refuge in her own little room ; but 
the hours were long that night, and it was morning in 
good sooth when she fell asleep. Then in her dreams 
she went over the story of the Dorcas-meeting. Again 
she laughed at Mrs. Marsey, and heard John Hildreth’s 
reproof. Only in her dreams it was John himself who 
walked home with her, and spoke to her of the “ nobler 
warfare,” and the “ crown of life.” And when she 
said to herself, “ I am so glad for John, so glad he is a 
Christian ! this is what I wanted long ago, and prayed 
for many times,” then something answered in her heart, 
“ This is not strange ; for all things whatsoever ye ask 
in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.” 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 39 


CHAPTER III. 

DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 
IZABETH,” said Martha, drawing Libby aside 



-Li after breakfast next morning, u you stay around 
a while, and keep father easy in his mind, while I run 
up to Mrs. Marsey’s on a little errand.” 

44 Oh ! do hurry back, Mart, there’s a dear,” said 
Libby ruefully. “ I’m so afraid father’ll get to running 
on at me, and I’m doleful this morning.” 

No one would have pitied her very much for her 
dolefulness, set off as it was by such fresh cheeks and 
merry eyes. 

44 I wish you would learn to be consistent,” said Mar- 
tha, sighing. “ How are you ever to get on in the 
world, if you take all the sweets, and leave the bitter?” 

“ It needn’t trouble you how Pm to get on, you 
know,” laughed Libby. “ I’ll clear you from all blame 
in regard to my future.” 

44 You never will be any thing but a baby, more’s the 
pity ; and I’m sure I’ve taken pains enough with } t ou, 
child. It isn’t any thing to you if folks think I’ve 
done my duty, or not.” 

44 You taught me 4 Little Busy Bee,’ ABC, the Ten 
Commandments, and all that, didn’t you, Mart? ’’re- 
torted Libby good-humoredly ; 44 but I’m lazy, and 
stupid, and naughty, for a’. Never mind: wait a bit, 


40 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


till the widower with the ten children c®mes along, then 
you’ll have fresh and hopeful specimens to practise on.” 

“There! that’s enough,” said Martha: “keep your 
folly to yourself.” 

She resented the little jest very hotly ; perhaps 
because it struck home to the loneliness of her poor, 
tired heart. 

“ I wish, while you teach me consistency, you’d learn 
to take a little fun yourself,” Libby was beginning to 
say, when, looking up, she saw the expression of Mar- 
tha’s face, and repented ; for Martha’s eyes had such a 
weary, longing look in them, that she began to wonder 
if she had ever made the first step towards understand- 
ing this hard, silent sister. 

“ There, dear old Mart,” she cried, “ I’m sorry I 
plagued you. Go about your errand, and I’ll humor 
the father ; but, for pity, don’t be long.” 

“ Little Lizzie, poor little Lizzie ! said Martha, put- 
ting her hand for a moment on Libby's soft hair, before 
she passed out of the door. 

She said it, not at all in the spirit of prophecy, or 
because she thought to foresee any of the dreary shad- 
ows which should fall on Libby’s path, but only because 
she was a woman, with a blank history joined to a 
lonely heart ; and life itself, above all, a woman’s life, 
seemed an unlovely thing to her mind, — something to 
be borne with patience, and resigned with a glad thank- 
fulness. Therefore, if Libby had love and sunshine 
now, she would have shadows and heartache just as 
surely in the days to come. • She said, “ Poor little Liz- 
zie ! ” thinking of this ; and if it had been Libby dead 
and in her coffin, whose head she pressed, she would 
have been tempted to call her “ happy little Lizzie.” 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 41 

“ Dear old M^rt ! ” said Libby beamingly. 44 You’re 
a precious creature when you’re good-natured. Now 
run along, there’s a dear.” 

Martha turned about, in her brisk, energetic way, 
and five minutes saw her in Mrs. Marsey’s kitchen. 

“ Why, good-morning, Miss Denwitt ! ” . cried that 
happy old lady. 44 Glad to see you so hearty. Got 
over the fuss of the Dorcas ? ” 

44 I wasn’t here to the Dorcas,” replied Miss Martha 
dryly. She was used to being overlooked. 

“Well, now, I never! No more you wa’n’t, to be 
sure. What a forgitful old cretur I be ! ” 

44 I couldn’t come last night. I don’t ever much affect 
these gossiping parties, anyhow. I just run in a minute, 
Mrs. Marsey, to bring our mite from home. Elizabeth 
comes to meeting, and don’t see no harm, poor child, if 
she don’t give any thing ; but ’tain’t right. I brought 
this roll of flannel shirts for her, and them other things 
and the money, — well, say 4 from a friend,’ or 4 George 
P. Denwitt,’ that’s better.” 44 Because it’s all the same,” 
she said to herself ; 44 and, if I did earn the money odd 
times, the linen was left of his last shirts.” 

44 Maybe that’s better, George P. Denwitt ; and, if 
you’ve got an armful of shirts cut out, I don’t mind 
taking ’em home to do evenings, when the work’s out 
of the way.” 

44 Law, now, you’re a worker, Miss Marthy, — a real 
worker. Shirts ! I guess there be, and plenty of stuff 
to make more. There ain’t no stint of work, I tell ’em. 
Bless you ! yes, you shall have a dozen,” said Miss 
Marsey, wiping her spectacles. 

44 Then that’s all,” Miss Denwitt answered, as she 
received her bundle. 44 Good-morning, ma’am.” 

4 * 


42 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


She came out again in the fresh morning air, which 
kissed her withered cheeks, and brought no brightness 
to them ; but down deep in her heart the tender 
breathings of love and charity shed a freshness and 
beauty which are wanting in many a younger heart 
than hers. . 

As she passed up the broad village street, close by 
the schoolhouse, she came suddenly upon Deacon Mar- 
shall, holding an open newspaper in his hand. He was 
so intent on its contents, that, if she had not made an 
adroit little movement to get out of his path, he would 
have succeeded in running her down. 

“ Ho ! Miss Martha Denwitt, news, news ! ” he cried. 
“ A great battle ! the South victorious ! the nation 
in a strait ! Come to the mark, all ye who are men. 
I say, come right up to the mark. Now is the time ! 
Strike while the iron’s hot ! ” 

“ Well,” said Miss Martha, “/can’t strike, deacon.” 

“ No, you’re only a woman, poor soul ! only a 
woman,” cried the deacon in compassionate tones. “ Go 
home and lament your fate in sackcloth and ashes.” 

“ I’ll go home and sweep most likely,” she answered 
dryly, “ which is better to my mind than yelling about 
town like a born lunatic. I guess women are as good 
as men-folks any day, Deacon Marshall.” 

“ If they only could fight,” rejoined the deacon' 
somewhat abashed. “No one is any good what can’t 
fight, only a 4 cumberer of the ground,’ ma’am. We’ll 
raise a regiment post haste. I’m going all over South- 
cliff to stir ’em up. I’m like the Scotchman with the 
red cross, ma’am,” flourishing his newspaper in lieu of 
the cross : “ I can only tarry to urge you forward. 
Beg pardon, ma’am. I can’t stop to talk to women.” 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 43 

“ You’re too old to make a fool of yourself, deacon,” 
said Miss Martha. “ There’s no reason to you. Wait 
till you cut your wisdom teeth before you talk about 
fighting.” 

But already the deacon was half-way down the street, 
speeding along on his self-appointed mission. 

You would have said, perhaps, that the deacon was a 
little mad ; but not so. His whole soul was bound up 
in this matter of his country and her war ; and the 
tumult that was rife within him urged him often into 
deep waters, where he lost his footing for the time. 

Miss Martha drew up her long, thin nose, and pro- 
ceeded straightway to forget the drift of the deacon’s 
news, in surmising how much good the soldiers might 
gather from the tracts and Testaments which her 
twenty dollars should buy. She thought, too, what a 
dim, unreal thing it seemed, that men should be fight- 
ing and killing each other under this same peaceful 
sun which shone through her kitchen windows ; should 
risk their lives day after day, while the same old round 
of duties came to her, with no prospect of change, no 
hope of fame or glory. But if one gave the best out 
of their life, — or gleanings from the best, — was not 
that almost equal to the life itself ? 

Elizabeth Denwitt grew restless that afternoon. 
Having no gifts for the soldiers to fill her thoughts, she 
fell to thinking overmuch of the soldiers themselves, — 
rather of those who might be soldiers in the days to 
come. Martha had given her a shirt of father’s to 
stitch, which must be done by sabbath ; and feeling 
the sitting-room too small for such a mammoth under- 
taking, and her own thoughts beside, she had taken 
refuge under the great elm-tree at the gateway. This 


44 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


being done, it was only another step to drop the work 
in her lap, lean back lazily in the sunshine, and fall to 
dreaming. She could dream over the most of her life 
in an hour, such a quiet and uneventful life it had been. 
There were picnics in summer, to be sure, and sleigh- 
rides and merry-makings in the winter-time ; but she 
would never have dreamt very long over those, if the 
merry-making and the feasting had been all. She went 
back further this afternoon, to the days when she rode 
to school winter mornings on J ohn Hildreth’s wooden 
sled. Gay and beautiful it was in red and purple and 
green, with “ Libby ” in gilt letters over the front ; and 
there was no sled in all Southcliff that went so smoothly 
or so fast. 

John Hildreth was always sure to excel, — so she 
thought, blushing a little, and smiling to herself. 
How famously he used to speak at the academy com- 
mencements, better than all others older than himself, 
and how he always seemed to care more for her ap- 
proval than even Prof. Browne’s ! What strange days 
they were, and what good friends they too had always 
been in those good old times ! Now he was valedic- 
torian, as any one might have expected, and cared 
nothing whatever for her, or her approval, — nothing 
whatever. Time works changes, and men are always 
fickle. 

She was thinking this, and preparing to dream fur- 
ther, when a carriage drove up to the gate, startling 
her back into commonplace every-day life. A bright, 
laughing girl, not so pretty as Libby, but undoubtedly 
more of a fine lady, leaned over the side of the carriage, 
smiling graciously. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” said our lazy little dreamer to herself, 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 45 

“ what have those two Hildreth girls to do with me ? ” 
After which she rose, and went forward to meet them. 

They were two cousins of John Hildreth, who had 
just come from Boston, and taken the stone house in 
the hollow for the summer months, and who were quite 
electrifying Southcliff, quite scandalizing the elder por- 
tion of it by their levity and lawlessness. “ Real Jeze- 
bels,” Mrs. Horn declared them, “bringing their fashions 
and wickedness into the midst of godly folk.” 

For all this they were merry, easy girls, whom South- 
cliff people liked somewhat against their wills ; for, if 
they were not church-goers or strict keepers of the 
sabbath, they certainly had a peculiar faculty for 
making themselves “ all things to all men.” 

u What does John think of them ? ” wondered Libby 
as she took the dainty gloved hands in hers. 

“ How delightful it must be to sew in the open air ! ” 
cried Miss Hildreth. u I see you country lasses know 
how to enjoy the greenness and freshness to the very 
highest extent.” 

“We have been so longing to know you,” lisped 
Miss Lu, “ for your praises are sounded from hill and 
dale ; we hear nothing everywhere but variations of 
‘ Libby Denwitt.’ ” 

“ Indeed, I think you must be quite a favorite, my 
dear,” echoed Miss Hildreth graciously. 

“ I am sure you are mistaken, Miss Hil ” — 

“ Oh ! do take us in and refresh our spirits,” cried 
Miss Lu. “ We’ve had a doleful visitation from some 
prosy old maid, — a Miss — what was it, Anabel ? ” 

Miss Hildreth shrugged her shoulders. 

“ I am at fault, my dear. I am sorry I cannot be 
Southcliff directory for you.” 


46 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Well, whoever knows who, Miss Libby, I don’t ; 
but, when she fell to rating us about our sins, we left 
her rather impolitely to Aunt Jane’s tender mercies.” 

Libby stood for a moment, looking from one to the 
other of these voluble young ladies, and quite forget- 
ting that she should act the part of a hostess, and invite 
them into the little front parlor. Perhaps she was fasci- 
nated in a measure by the quick black eyes of Miss Hil- 
dreth, and Miss Lucile’s beaming smile. But, when the 
former suggested to her a more hospitable course, she 
acted upon it directly. 

“ I am glad to meet you both,” she said. “ Come 
this way, please, into the parlor. I believe almost all 
Southcliff has the pleasure of knowing the Misses 
Hildreth, but just myself.” 

Libby meant no satire in this sweeping assertion. 

“ And whose fault is that ? ” asked Miss Hildreth, 
nowise offended. “ All Southcliff but just yourself, 
my dear, has honored us with a visit.” 

“ So you see how we must have ached to make your 
acquaintance,” her sister concluded, seating herself in 
the easiest chair Martha Denwitt’s little parlor could 
boast. 

“ Indeed ! thank you,” said Libby, trying but vainly 
to coax home her old sunny manner and smile. 

“ And then that Dorcas,” said Lu gushingly; “we 
were both just dying to go, for the fun of it, you know ; 
and what did Aunt Jane do, but invite a good half 
dozen cousins out from Boston, then fall ill of a 
headache, and leave us to do the honors ! I was so 
vexed I could have pulled out her hair.” 

“ You must know, my dear, that Aunt Jane’s head- 
aches are a farce,” Miss Hildreth explained : “ she puts 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 47 

them on, like her paint and powder, according to 
discretion.” 

“ Indeed ! how very convenient ! ” Then, not being 
quite herself this afternoon, Libby looked down at the 
carpet, and sighed. 

She thought how, a day or two before, she had declared 
to herself that she never would become acquainted with 
these Hildreth girls, never . They would lead her away 
from her Saviour, and she would learn through them to 
think lightly of the things she most highly prized. 
What would her frail armor be against such formidable 
assaults from the great world without ? 

“ Such a fuss as there is about the news this morn- 
ing ! ” broke in Miss' Lu, not seeming to heed her 
silence. “ I saw an old gentlemen with his brains 
turned quite inside out, and the ideas running away. 
He’s a good old deacon down in the village, — a friend 
of yours, I dare say, Miss Denwitt. I’m positive he’ll 
be stark mad before nightfall.” 

u Deacon Marshall,” suggested Libby. 

“ It’s likely. His eloquence and high-minded scorn 
of any thing weak and feminine have had such an 
effect on Lu and myself, that we think of turning 
vivandieres ; don’t we, Lu ?” asked the elder sistex. 

“ To be sure we have, Miss Libby — more than all, 
since Cousin John is off. Do you know my cousin 
John ? ” 

“ Who ? John Hildreth ? ” asked Libby, looking up 
with sudden interest : “ is he going South ? ” 

“Ay, indeed is he, John Hildreth, — going South, 
too, to have his bones broken, and his limbs shot 
away. I’ve told him twenty times he was a fool ; you 
tell him the same, Miss Libby, to swell the opposition.” 


48 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


Libby looked up with a rather benignant smile. “ I 
never should call a man a fool for serving his country 
well,” she said. 

44 Now, Nan, do you see this ? ” cried Miss Lu, clasp- 
ing her hands in mock despair. 44 These are the traitors 
in the camp, that work the mischief, — these patriotic 
little women, who scrape lint with one hand, and hold 
a black flag in the other. John came an hour ago to tell 
us about it. We shed oceans of tears, and blubbered 
over him for full twenty minutes ; but all to no avail, 
because — do you see ? Why, it’s clear as sunshine ! ” 

44 You see, he’s the only available escort we have in 
Southcliff, my dear,” Miss Hildreth added smilingly: 
44 and we are loath to lose him so completely. But, if 
we had known what secret influences were at work, we 
might have spared ourselves the pains.” 

44 Wasn’t John a wise man, not to ‘let on ’?” asked 
Miss Lu. 

44 If you suppose for a moment that Mr. Hildreth 
has been influenced by me,” said Libby, growing cold 
as a small iceberg, 44 you are very much mistaken, Miss 
Hildreth.” 

44 Oh ! it is this unconscious influence that plays the 
mischief, my dear.” Miss Hildreth raised her eye- 
brows, seeming very wise in these matters. 

44 You are altogether in fault, Miss Hildreth,” Libby 
repeated vehemently : and upon this followed an awk- 
ward silence in which Libby colored to her temples, 
and Miss Anabel broke the tip off her parasol, in strik- 
ing it against the window-sill. 

44 Don’t be offended, I beg,” she said presently ; 44 we 
meant no harm, I assure you, Lu and I. You must 
come to see us very soon, to show you are not of- 
fended.” 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTPY. 49 

“Yes, do, Miss Libby,” Lu echoed emphatically. 
“ John is going in two weeks ; and we shall be so doleful 
when he is not coming over every day or so. We’ll be 
charmed to see you, and take you out rowing on old 
Squire Parson’s lake, just back of us. We have a craft 
of our own on it ; and, as the squire holds his tongue, 
we suppose he likes to see it used. Come sociably, and 
spend the day.” 

Whereupon, with “many a flirt and flutter,” the 
Misses Hildreth took their gracious departure, and left 
Libby much relieved but a little saddened. 

She seated herself on the carpet in front of the win- 
dow, to look matters in the face. 

Glad he was going ? Of course she was. It was the 
very best thing he could do with himself, and just what 
any man with a grain of spirit ought to do ; just what 
any man who would ever win her love must do, of a 
certainty. It was all very well for people to talk of 
fighting at home : in her mind, a brave man could 
serve God and put down sin quite as well on a field of 
battle as anywhere else ; for God was everywhere, of 
course. 

And would she, Elizabeth Denwitt, shed any sorrow- 
ful tears over the next flannel shirts? Would she? 
She hoped not, indeed ! unless it might be tears of vex- 
ation, that she could not go herself. And she was glad 
of this much beside* that, since John Hildreth and she 
had been good friends in days gone by, he had not 
proved himself a coward in the end. 

“ Lizabeth,” called Martha from the entry, “ it’s 
amazing that you shouldn’t know no better than to 
keep the parlor windows open, with the sun streaming 
in like a furnace. The carpet won’t be fit for old rags.” 

5 


50 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 I’ve had a visit,” said Libby irrelevantly, and rising 
slowly as she spoke. 44 The Misses Hildreth, from the 
Hollow, honored me,” with a naughty little curl of her 
lip. 

44 Hum ! fly-away girls as ever trod shoe-leather ! 
Good for nothing but to block up the road.” 

44 How do you know? ” asked Libby, 

44 How do I know I can see ? ” asked Martha. 

44 Perhaps you can’t,” suggested Libby blandly. 

Martha sighed. 44 One never expects you to take 
advice,” she said. 44 You never did, to my knowledge. 
If I had a grain of sense, I’d know better than to ex- 
pect it. Perhaps you’ll see, some day, you’d best have 
left ’em alone.” 

44 That’s just what I mean to do, Mart. They’d never 
suit me, or I them. I’m tired ; don’t vex me. I’ve 
been sitting here, droning in the sun, till my face 
burns.” 

Miss Martha herself came in to close the shutter; 
and then, her feminine curiosity triumphing over her 
sisterly indignation, she suddenly asked, — 

44 What did those girls have to say, Lizabeth ? ” 

Libby looked up and laughed in a queer, tremulous 
way ; then hung her head, and blushed like a scarlet 
lobelia. 

44 Well, I can’t see any thing in that to look silly 
about,” said her sister tartly ; 44 don’t be simple, child.” 

Whereat Libby rose, and shook herself. 

“Did you want news?” she asked desperately. 
44 Yes, there’s news. John Hildreth is raising a com- 
pany, and will leave for the South in a week or two. 
Never mind that blind, Martha; I will set things 
straight.” 


DEPUTATION FROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 51 

‘•Now, I want to know,” said Martha, “what does 
John Hildreth know about soldiering ? I don’t believe 
he ever shot any thing bigger than a robin in his life. 
The minister’ll be going next.” 

“ Not he,” said Libby shaking her head : “ he’ll 4 bide 
by the stuff,’ I take it, and see to the women and 
children.” 

“And he couldn’t do better, to my mind,” added 
Martha decisively. 

Philip Hilton, who was not going with the others, — 
whom Libby, in her own heart, even called a coward 
this afternoon, — fought a great battle with himself 
that very night, greater, perhaps, than some of which 
we have record ; and he conquered gloriously. 

It was a weary fight, for all that. In the one small 
room which was his battle-field, he brought forward all 
the pleas which his brain could furnish, or his heart 
devise. 

Surely, said the longing within him, surely this 
was a glorious war, — glorious not only to man, but to 
God, — and righteous, for it had in view the “ loosing 
of the captive.” The wisest men in the country, and 
the holiest, were asking God’s blessing on it, in their 
prayers, sabbath after sabbath, and day after day. 

He, too, had prayed ; but “ faith without works is 
dead ; ” and it was work that he longed to give. 
Should not he, being the servant of God, go gladly 
where his country called him, and when all the man- 
hood in his soul was urging him on, when his heart 
beat night and day with a great tumultuous longing to 
be gone ? 

Must he fold idle hands because he was vowed to 


52 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


God’s service, — a leader in Israel ? Where, then, were 
Joshua and Gideon and Jeplithali — all likewise leaders, 
yet who committed no sin in doing battle against the 
enemies of God ? 

But he, — was he not sealed and consecrated, a priest 
of the Lord? and “ the servant of God must not strive.” 

Then surely he would not strive ; but even the Le- 
vites went before, bearing the ark. He would count it 
a blessing if lie might only be near, to nerve other arms 
with his courage, to tell brave men, on the eve of battle, 
of a “ strong tower ” and “ protection,” of the “ ever- 
lasting arms ” beneath them, and the “ many mansions ” 
in the “Father’s house.” Was not Moses, the “servant 
of God,” set to overlook the battle, while even Aaron, 
God’s higli-priest, upheld the failing arms whose weak- 
ness would have brought discomfiture to the armies of 
Israel ? 

He wrestled long time on his knees, with his young 
head bowed on his hands, begging this tempting boon 
of his heavenly Father ; but, when he asked sincerely 
to see the truth, the truth was made very clear to him. 
Against all these pleas and prayings, beyond and above 
all these notable examples of godly men, he saw with 
undimmed eyes the work which God had given to his 
hand. 

“ God opened the young man’s eyes, and he saw ” 
chariots of fire and horses of fire “ round about Elijah.” 
God opened Philip Hilton’s eyes, and he saw the field 
which had been given to him six months before, to cul- 
tivate for the glory of his Master, — a barren, sterile 
field, which, under his hand, was already growing 
“ white to the harvest.” 

He saw, against his pleadings, more than one soul in 


DEPUTATION EROM THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY. 58 


his flock who stood, as he believed, where two roads 
met ; almost willing to choose the way of life, almost 
tempted into choosing the other. 

Could he leave all this to other hands, and still hold 
his own soul guiltless before God ? 

At daybreak he rose from his knees, with an answer 
in his heart. Peace had come to him in the long night 
watch. He took up this cross, as he had taken many 
others, and bore it after the Master. 


54 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


* 


CHAPTER IV. 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


HERE was a day, about this time, more perfect 



-L than all the days which had gone before it since 
the snow first melted in Southcliff. Perhaps it was the 
farewell token of spring-time, for this was the last of 
May. Every thing still wore that cool, dewy freshness, 
which passes away with the early summer. The mead- 
ows were covered thick with daisies and clover, a 
mantle of fragrance ; and, down at their roots, there 
were no yellow leaves as yet, to start up, like the skele- 
ton at a feast, and tell of death, which had crept in to 
mar the loveliness. There was only tender green in 
the meadows and by the roadside, rustling atop of the 
maple-trees, and on the elms and larches, where the 
little birds hid themselves in the joy of their hearts, 
and went to housekeeping in small summer houses of 
their own. 

How the joy and beauty of it all entered into Libby’s 
life that day, as she stood at the front gate for a mo- 
ment after breakfast ! Looking up the road, she saw 
the sunlight making mimic lanterns of the dewdrops in 
the grass, the dandelions nodding their yellow crowns 
at each other, and the mist just floating away over the 
distant hills. Noise and bustle, and the stirring of a 
new day about, while over there the mountains had 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


55 


only to bask in the sun, and let the mist curl over them. 
What a comfort, when one was vexed, to look off there 
at that distant, unruffled quiet ! The world was very 
beautiful. 

Always after, Libby set this day down in the calendar 
of her heart as a white day ; laid it away like a flower, 
which, though it may fade and wither, can be told by 
the sweetness around it. God was very good. She 
should never doubt his goodness again, Avhen he could 
stoop, in the plenitude of his gladness and glory, to 
remember that his children loved gladness too, and to 
make such a day as this for their pleasure. What a 
perfect blue in the sky ! as if it were copied from 
something in heaven ; and the birds sang as though 
they had taken lessons of the angels overnight. 

“ I shall never, never again weary of serving such a 
King,” Libby whispered softly to herself, in her glad- 
ness, “ even if it is fight and struggle, struggle and 
fight, for a lifetime.” 

Even as she said it, the sound of drums came up from 
the village, where John Hildreth was drilling the men 
who were to go with him, in a week or two, to the seat 
of war. More than half of them were the playmates 
of his boyish days, and the friends of his manhood ; and 
John was proud to be their captain. Day after day the 
drilling went on, and day after day with more success ; 
for the captain had been used to being drilled, and 
commanded himself, and was not an unqualified teacher. 
At length even old Deacon Marshall, who was a never- 
failing eye-witness, gave vent to hearty applause, declar- 
ing most honestly that he could not have drilled them 
better himself, even with his old grandfather as an 
example. 


56 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


The sound of the drums, as she turned toward the 
house, made Libby’s heart sick, and for one moment 
clouded the beauty of the day. 

There was more than the usual work to be done that 
morning ; for Martha was making soft soap, and had set 
her mind upon taking up the carpets in the parlor and 
dining-room, in view of the semi-annual cleaning-time, 
which she had appointed for the coming week. There 
was no time for dreaming and moping ; no time for any 
thing, indeed, but some snatches of a hymn, as she went 
about making the beds. Something in Libby’s nature 
something which belonged to her joyous spring-time, 
kept her singing all the day, whether Martha were cross 
or good-natured. 

But this afternoon just at sunset, as the martial sounds 
came up from the green again, a shadow fell across her. 
She had been very good and busy all the day, sweeping, 
dusting, and helping Martha with her soap ; now she 
stood at the window, trying to struggle against this 
melancholy which came to her on the drum-beat. 

44 Come here and read to me, lass,” came a peremp- 
tory voice from the kitchen fire. 44 You’re one of the 
loiterers in the vineyard, who make fair show to be 
saints. Doesn’t your Bible tell you you’ll have to give 
an account for every moment, young woman ? ” 

44 Oh, dear ! ” sighed Libby dolefully. 44 I’ll take my 
sewing directly, father.” 

The old man looked at her with a stern, forbidding 
gesture. 

44 I’ll have no more professions,” he cried, 44 no more 
professions. Haven’t you professed to turn from the 
world? and don’t you choose a needle and a bit of cloth 
above a godty treatise ? ” 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


57 


“ But it sets me all askew,” said Libby, wistful still, 
“ to read such things as those. I’d rather read the old 
pagan philosophers you’re so fond of studying. But, 
when I read your hard theology, I feel like losing all 
faith in God’s love, and all hope for time and eternity. 
I don’t know where you picked up those old, old books ; 
I think they must have been written by men who had 
no hearts, or consciences, or Bibles. Whenever I read 
them, I have to go off by myself, and think, ‘ God is 
love , God is love ; ’ and, 4 It is not the will of your Father 
which is in heaven that one of these little ones should 
perish.’” • 

Libby’s lips quivered, and the tears rose to her eyes; 
this day which had begun with love and thankfulness, 
had been so full of them, every hour. 

“Very well, young woman,” her father rejoined, 
“ follow your trifles and vanities : I sha’n’t need other 
eyes to read for me long.” 

He sat by the fire with his white head bowed, his 
hands moving restlessly to and fro on his knees, think- 
ing, thinking, thinking, with the same unvaried monot- 
ony in which all his days were passed. No gleam of 
sunshine crept into his darkened heart, while this little 
daughter had so much sunshine and faith and love. 

She stepped up in a moment, and took the book from 
his little table. 

“ Yes, I will read, father,” she said. “ I'm sorry I 
wouldn’t. 

“ You ought to be sorry, and ashamed of yourself 
too,” said Martha, appearing for the first time on the 
scene. “You sha’n’t read now, if you want to. Give me 
the book, and go about your business. I can read hard 
things.” 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


* 58 


Libby, nothing loath, proceeded to obey. 

“ Stay, Lizabeth : run for your hat, and take them 
flannel shirts up to Mrs. Marsey’s before supper-time.” 

“ Flannel shirts ! wherever did they come from, and 
who made them, Martha?” 

“ That isn't your business, I guess : you’re only to do 
as I bid you,” said Martha dryly. “ Be sure to come 
back in time to set the table.” 

“ Hum,” muttered Libby : “ cross as two sticks. 
Good-day to your majesty.” 

She went out in the doorway, where the late sun- 
light fell full upon her, and forgot in a mordent all she 
had left behind; — forgot all but the beautiful day, and 
the God who had made it for her. 

Down in the village the drums were beating a dis- 
missal from afternoon drill. That was the only sound 
which fell on her ear, as Libby walked out with her 
burden, — that, and the rumbling of some wagon- wheels 
far up the road. It would only be for a few days more, 
that this sound of the drum would break in upon the 
old-time stillness of Southcliff, reminding them of 
things that were happening miles away. The thought 
of this and of other things made her pause and lean 
on the gate until the last sound had died ; when she 
spoke to a little robin who stood beside her, taking his 
supper oft a dead beetle. 

“ It seems to me I shall always remember this pleas- 
ant Saturday,” she said, — “ such golden sunlight set 
to such strange new music.” 

As there was both a long and a short road to Mrs. 
Marsey’s, Libby chose the long one, not because she 
dreaded setting the table for supper, but because the 
necessity of suppers had quite passed from her mind. 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 59 

The most of her way was through a quiet, lonely road 
— a lane they called it in Southcliff, with maples and 
walnuts on either hand ; to the right a patch of woods 
just bursting into rich summer foliage ; and off at the 
left broad pasture-lands and daisy-fields, just visible be- 
tween the maple leaves and raspberry bushes. This was 
where the school-children had always come for rasp- 
berries on Saturday afternoons, and where John and she 
used to stroll off from the others, and tell stories in the 
shadows of the coppice, feasting on their spoil, from 
dainty cups of maple leaves. 

There was a low murmur in the branches over her 
head ; the twitter of little birds gathering themselves to 
rest, and scolding over the choicest roosting-places. 
Now and again a blossom fell at her feet with a slight 
rustling sound, which stirred the stillness ; but the only 
creatures she met on her way were two of Deacon 
Marshall’s cows, coming home by themselves from pas- 
ture ; and even these turned aside to give her full 
range of the path. 

The lane came to an abrupt conclusion at Eli Mar- 
sey’s potato-patch ; and as Libby turned the stile, and 
began daintily to gather up her skirts, she saw John 
Hildreth going in at the front gate. 

“ I am glad, I am glad ! ” said a voice, quite in the 
depths of her heart : “I shall see him once more before 
he goes.” But at the very moment her own audible 
voice was saying, “ Dear me ! why must that fellow be 
everywhere? I wish he could ever be content at 
home, and not turn up in such unexpected places.” 

She had no idea of telling an untruth to herself, not 
the least ; for she put such faith in her own audible 
voice, that she walked directly toward the back 


GO 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


kitchen, thinking to slip in, and leave her bundle 
unobserved. 

“ Law sakes ! if there ain’t Lizabeth with them shirts 
done a’ready,” came ringing forth in Mrs. Marsey’s 
full heart tones from the open window, loud enough 
for John to hear them in the parlor, and smile quietly 
to himself. “ I’m clean beat now, if that don’t go 
ahead. Marthy ain’t finished ’em, all herself, has she, 
dear ? well, well, I want to know ! ” and, opening her 
great motherly arms, she included Libby and the bun- 
dle in one capacious embrace. 

“ Now, if ’twa’n’t too bad, for you to lug ’em away 
over here, so late a’ night too. Ain’t this been a pritty 
day ? Set down on the settle, dearie, and rest ; bime-by 
I’ll send the captain up home with you, after supper’s 
over.” 

“ Home with me ! I’d like to see him,” cried Libby. 
“ I’m as smart and capable as the next one, Mrs. Mar- 
sey ; and I ought to be home this very minute, setting 
our own supper-table.” 

“ Law now, must you ? If Marthy said so, I can’t 
hender you, dearie, though I’d be main glad to have 
you to supper. J ust wait a bit, till I fetch you a cut 
of fresh gingerbread to eat on the way.” 

This suggestion of a secret store of gingerbread was 
the bringing back of old times anew, — the times of 
the berry ing-par ties, when they had been used to rest 
in Mrs. Marsey’s back garden, under the chestnut tree, 
while they feasted to their hearts’ content on ginger- 
bread and milk. 

In memory, perhaps, of these old times, she waited in 
the doorway for the cut of gingerbread, listening mean- 
while to the sound of voices in the sitting-room, — Eli 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


61 


Marsey’s, and one other that she knew. Then, after 
Mrs. Marsey had come hack from the cupboard, she 
stopped for a few more words, and to tell the merits of 
the gingerbread. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” she cried at last, catching up her hat 
from the table, “ I really must go, Mrs. Marsey. I wish 
people could live on air, and run wild like children.’” 

Mrs. Marsey laughed her round, genial laugh, which 
changed into solicitude a moment later. 

“Law, now! it’s getting damp, dearie, and the sun’s 
a’most set. I don’t want to scare you a mite, but 
folks do say there’s been robbers seen about Southcliff. 
’Taint no ways likely, but it’s best to be keerful.” 

“ Fudge ! ” said Libby, shaking her head. 

“ W ait a bit, now,” said the good lady. “ There’s John 
Hildreth’s voice I hear, talking to father. Like enough 
he’s jest goin’ your way, and would as lief see you to 
hum as not.” 

“ Thank you : I don’t want company,” Libby an- 
swered in haste, tying the strings of her hat. 

“ Oh ! bless your little heart, dearie, he won’t think 
nothin’ of it. Don’t be set up. It’s gettin’ dusk, and 
the lane’s lonesome nights. — John, John Hildreth ! ” 

“ Coming, ma’am.” 

The conversation ceased in the sitting-room, and in 
one moment John’s form appeared in the kitchen door- 
way. 

“ I’m your very obedient servant, Mrs. Marsey. — 
Good-evening, Libby.” 

“ I was jist a-tellin’ Libby Denwitt, it’s too dark for 
her to be goin’ hum alone ; and I guessed you’d be 
willin’ to see her along that way.” 

“ You were quite right, Mrs. Marsey,” he answered 
6 


62 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


readily, going toward Libby with outstretched hand. — 
44 May I, Libby ? and how do you do these beautiful 
days ? ” 

She was on the doorstep already, blushing with indig- 
nation and mortified pride. 

“ Quite well, I thank you,” she answered ; “ but I 
prefer my own company, as I told Mrs. Marsey.” 

John smiled in a very provoking way, and stepped 
politely aside to let her pass. 1 

44 A safe journey, Miss Denwitt,” he said. 

Libby gathered up her skirts, biting desperately at 
her lips the while, then carried her sore, angry little 
heart down through the garden and the potato-patch 
once more. She stopped a moment under the chestnut- 
tree to collect her thoughts ; and when she reached 
the stile again, and put out her hand to turn it, she saw 
John Hildreth leaning there, and composedly waiting 
for her. 

“ What did I tell you, Mr. Hildreth ? ” she said, with 
one desperate attempt at dignity and anger. 

44 Never mind what you told me, Libby,” he answered, 
putting his wilful, saucy face between her and the road 
she had to travel. 44 I know you never meant it ; and 
that style of thing won’t bear repeating.” 

But she stood half irresolute, the tears almost rising 
in her eyes. 

44 I’ve seen you up this road scores of times, on other 
Saturday afternoons, you know. And, Libby,” his face 
growing more earnest and determined, 44 it may be the 
last time I shall ask it of you ; and I have something to 
tell you now.” 

44 To tell me he is going, perhaps,” she said to herself ; 
but she answered, half relenting, 44 As you choose ; only 
I must make haste.” 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


63 


So they walked on between the maple-trees together, 
talking of this and that, of very little in particular, and 
a deal that had no interest for one or the other. 

44 So you are going away,” she said presently, turning 
her head from him, and looking off at the red clouds in 
the west. 

44 Yes, in five days more, Libby; you see how short 
the time is growing.” 

44 I think a day would seem long to me, if I were a 
man,” she said. 

John Hildreth bit his lip at the implied reproof, which 
he knew was undeserved; but, as Libby’s head was 
turned, she missed seeing the effect of her words. 

44 Do you regret going ? ” she asked, turning suddenly 
upon him. 

44 No, Libby.” That was all. There were no protes- 
tations of patriotism, nor any thing to intensify or color 
his answer ; but he spoke in the tone of a man who 
had counted the cost, and knew well what lay before 
him. 

44 Shall you ever ? ” she asked. 

44 Never” 

44 But suppose you are brought home maimed for life, 
or suppose — you die.” 

Lie turned suddenly on his courageous little catechiser, 
and put a question to her. 

44 Shall you be sorry to have me go, Libby ? ” he 
asked. 

44 You and I were old friends, John. I am proud to 
have my friends serve my country, you know.” 

44 Oh, yes ! that is understood, little patriot,” he 
answered, with a smile in his eyes. 44 But for your own 
self, Libby, shall you be sorry, or glad ? ” 


04 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 I don’t know — how should I ? ” she faltered, catch- 
ing at a branch of laurel flowers which hung within her 
reach. 

44 How should you, indeed ? and yet I think you are 
a little sorry in your heart,” he answered presumptu- 
ous^. “You may not drop any tears over the next 
flannel shirts, because you are very proud, little Libby, 
and not much given to crying; but I hope you will 
think more kindly of me as you make them.” 

She laughed absently, and finished her laugh with a 
sigh. 

“ Yes, I am sorry,” she assented. 44 I am sorry for the 
sake of old times, John.” 

“It is good to have so much sorrow, at least from 
such an impregnable little heart. What a perverse little 
damsel you have grown these past two years, Libb} r ! 
You used to put your hand in mine add say, 4 1 love you, 
John,’ as freely as you. say, 4 Good-morning, Mr. Hil- 
dreth,’ to me now.” He turned, looking mischievously 
in her face. 

44 There is no use in being so minute about bygones,” 
she answered, drawing herself up with blushing dig- 
nity. 44 Those childish times arc past, and won’t bear 
recalling.” 

44 So you begrudge this poor dog the one little bone 
you threw him ? ” 

44 You might take something better to the front than 
kind words of mine,” she said evasively. 

44 Not hymn-book and tracts, ah, no ! ” he answered in 
a deprecating tone. 44 Grandmother has packed up two 
or three dozen already ; ” yet his voice grew tender 
from love to this old grandmother. 

44 1 hope they may do you good, Mr. Hildreth.” 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


65 


“Perhaps they may, if you choose,” he returned 
rather irrelevantly ; but his voice had grown more 
earnest and tender with the last few moments. He 
stooped to clear a fallen branch from her path, then 
turned again to speak his mind. 

u Do you know how much that depends upon you, 
Libby ? ” 

“ No,” she answered quickly : “ I don’t see that I 
have any thing whatever to do with it.” 

She was vexed that her hand should tremble, and the 
color rise so quickly to her face. 

“ Libby,” he said abruptly, “ I think you know what 
I want.” 

How could she ? how could she dare to know ? yet 
after all, in the depths of her heart, how could she help 
but read his meaning ? She looked up at him piteously 
for a moment, like a deer that is driven to bay, then 
dropped her eyes, and kept silence. 

“ I want this, to take with me, Libby, — a promise, 
sealed and sure, that when I come back from the war — 
if ever I do, God knows ! — I may find a little wife in 
Southcliff waiting to be mine.” 

The words — each one of them — fell like music on 
Libby’s heart, making the world seem more fair and 
beautiful than ever before. While she walked with her 
eyes on the ground, the daisies seemed to look up and 
laugh at her, the buttercups shook with excess of 
delight, and every thing went like some beautiful 
dream in this little Eden between the maple-trees. 

Misery was an obsolete word, and happiness was 
immortal. 

“Is there no word, Libby ?” asked John, trying to 
look in her eyes. “ What hope shall I have for my 
6 * 


66 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


home-coming ? There is no one else in all the world 
hut you who could be that little wife waiting for me.” 

Then once again, as in the old childish times, Libby 
slipped her hand in his, and said, “ I love you, John.” 

That was all, but that meant the promise and the 
little wife to come. 

This John Hildreth had no part or lot in her Saviour 
or her hope ; but she loved him very truly, and she 
never troubled herself with any possible warfare she 
might have to wage with her heart in the days to come, 
or any possible stumbling-blocks which might lie in her 
path. 

“ You asked me a question a few moments ago,” he 
said presently, as they stopped at Libby’s own gate. 
“ I am going to answer it for you.” 

“I don’t remember,” she faltered shyly, fearful of 
what she might have said. 

“ If I am brought home maimed — was that it ? why, 
then I will find a dear little girl who will — well, not 
marry me, Libby, but bring me a bit of sunshine now 
and then in memory of this day ; and, if I die, she will 
drop a tear on my grave, if she can find it ; at least, on 
my picture.” 

He spoke lightly of his death, but there was a new 
earnestness in his face which touched Libby’s heart ; 
and she answered very gently, — 

“ Even if you come home crippled for life, John, she 
will marry you just the same, and bring you sunshine 
every day if she can, God helping her.” 

“ And God bless her, every atom of her, my brave 
little Spartan ! ” he answered, drawing her close into his 
arms. 

“ Hush ! ” she whispered, “ don’t talk of such things ; 
let us be happy to-day.” 


A TRAITOR IN THE CAMP. 


67 


“ Ay ! that we will, and for all the days to come. 
We will make to ourselves a new time, Libby, better 
than the old.” 

She smiled joyously. No shadow rested over her 
heart to-night. So these children built their card- 
houses on the shore of the great ocean. 

“ A new time, with a wife in place of a friend, 
Libby : ” he looked down in her eyes, holding her still 
as though loath to let her go, even for a time. 

“ But a friend always, John,’’ she said earnestly. 

He bent down with a tenderness the boy John never 
knew in those old days, and put the seal of this 
friendship on Libby’s parted lips. 

And so her white day ended. 


68 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER Y. 


46 BREAKERS AHEAD.” 


LL that Saturday morning which came after, 



-AJL Libby was content to keep quietly at home, help- 
ing Martha with a sweetness and docility which more 
than once caused her sister to look at her with wonder- 
ing eyes. All the morning there was a song at her 
heart, and the flood of happiness she carried in her eyes 
was as irrepressible as sunshine. It is true, she was a 
very prosaic morsel of happiness, in her brown gingham 
dress, which had been washed and re-washed until its 
color was slowly forsaking it; and with even this 
pinned up in front, to look more in keeping with the 
work-a-day world. It set forth the hole in her petticoat, 
too, as Libby ruefully observed to herself; and Martha 
would be sure to spy it the first thing, reminding her 
that she had neglected to mend it. But she concluded 
with the resolve that she needed a cross of some kind, 
to counterbalance her joy, and this was just as large a 
one as she chose to carry. 

Libby was quite in earnest, though she smiled at 
herself for her thought. Whenever any great happiness 
came to her, such as she had met once or twice in her 
life, or whenever the world went smoothly with her, 
and those she cared for looked on her brightest side, — 
at such times she had a way, half unconsciously, of 


“BREAKERS AHEAD. 


69 


>> 


seeking crosses for herself, something to give her a 
little pain, lest she should be sent forth from her Eden ; 
in truth, choosing her cross, and trying to fit it to her 
shoulders, while she imagined it a grievous one to hear, 
lest God should choose a heavier one, and himself set 
her to carry it. 

This was only a small tear in her petticoat, to be 
sure, and a small scolding which might follow ; but 
Libby might have saved herself the pains of choosing 
her cross and her battle-field, when both lay so close 
before her. 

After the cake was made, the parlor brushed up and 
set in order, and only the sitting-room left to be dusted, 
Libby adjourned thither with her dusting brush, and 
began making a long task of it ; hovering about her 
father’s chair on one little errand or another, and hoping 
in her heart that he would ask her again to read to 
him, as he did the night before. But the old man, 
intent on other thoughts, paid no heed to this bit of 
sunshine that flickered before him. Before she had 
quite given up in despair, Martha came from the kitch- 
en, breathless and excited. 

“ Mrs. Hildreth has just driven up at the gate,” she 
gasped, rolling down her sleeves ; “ and I ain’t fit to see 
a beggar. Lizabeth Denwitt — well, I give up ! I 
despair of ever learning you to be any thing but a 
sloven. Look at that petticoat ! well, there’s no use.” 

There was certainly “ no use ” to multiply words on 
the subject; for Mrs. Hildreth stood already at the 
door, tapping daintily with her small gloved fingers, 
and drawing aside the skirts of her dress from contact 
with Martha’s immaculate doorstep. 

“ Come in, please,” said Libby opening the door, 


70 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


which led directly into the sitting-room, and holding up 
her proud little head with the air of a duchess. She 
disdained even to drop her dress, lest her future mother- 
in-law, with all this grandeur and elegance, should take 
Miss Elizabeth Denwitt for something a little less 
humble than she really was in her every-day life. 

Hardly waiting for this tardy invitation, Mrs. Hil- 
dreth rustled in, after her quiet, well-bred fashion, and 
bowed benignly to the three persons before her. Mrs. 
Hildreth was a lady of importance among her own par- 
ticular friends. 

“ How do you do, Mr. Denwitt ? hearty as ever, I 
see. — And you, Miss Denwitt, always busy : don’t let 
me detain you a moment, I beg.” 

Martha’s joy at being detained was certainly a matter 
of serious doubt ; but, keeping silence on this point, 
she seated herself stiffly on the very edge of a cane-seat 
chair, and waited further developments. 

Mrs. Hildreth was a tall and singularly graceful 
woman, not at all handsome, yet not by any means 
plain. Her hair was light, and she wore it in a profu- 
sion of little fluffy curls on her temples, which, together 
with her fresh complexion, made her appear much 
younger than she really was in years. Being near- 
sighted, she had acquired a habit of half closing her 
eyes, and looking at one in a way which seemed de- 
signed to read them through and through. Possibly 
in any one else this would have been counted imperti- 
nence : in Mrs. Hildreth it was simply an oddity. For 
the rest, she had many gray hairs, — which she cautious- 
ly concealed under pretty French breakfast-caps, — and 
wrinkles not a few ; but, by coaxing her curls somewhat 
farther over her temples, she almost succeeded in hiding 


“BREAKERS AHEAD.” 71 

them. Besides this, she had a laughing way of asserting 
that John and his brother were both mere boys, and 
herself quite a child when she married. This dread of 
growing old was one of Mrs. Hildreth’s weaknesses. 

This much for the lady’s outward appearance : her 
character, although not so easily painted, was similar in 
some respects. Like her hair and complexion, it was 
drawn in light strokes, with little depth or richness of 
coloring, but with hidden streaks of gray, and wrinkles 
half revealed. She had a way, a rather impertinent 
one, of looking at people’s characters something as she 
looked at their faces, and of hiding her thoughts and 
purposes as she hid her wrinkles and gray hairs. With 
all her dignity and decorum, you never knew quite 
where to find Mrs. Hildreth. 

Well, doubtless we all have hidden wrinkles and 
gray streaks, which we would rather no eye should see 
but our own. 

The one person whom Mrs. Hildreth loved supremely 
was her eldest son. Southcliff wiseacres had mentioned 
and predicted, long years ago, that, if John Hildreth 
escaped being ruined altogether, it would be no fault 
of his mother’s ; for she was doing her best to ruin him 
every day of his life. Certainly, if unlimited indulgence 
will always ruin a child, the wiseacres were right. 

It was at his desire she had driven up to-day, as she 
told them presently. 

“ I have come on a little business with Miss Elizabeth,” 
she said, turning her peering glance upon that young 
lady, who had taken up one of her father’s shirts, and 
was stitching diligently upon it, in a dim corner of 
the room. 

“ A little business with Miss Elizabeth,” she repeated, 


72 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 but pray, my dear, don’t use your eyes by that wretched 
light : you will certainly ruin them.” 

44 My eyes are excellent, ma’am,” said Libby, lifting 
her bright hazel orbs, with all the irrepressible sunshine 
in them, to this lady’s face. 

44 Oh, yes ! without doubt : all young eyes are to begin 
with,” Mrs. Hildreth rejoined, drawing together her own 
rather prominent ones, and taking a quiet survey of her 
should-be daughter-in-law ; even to her worn little shoes, 
and the hole in her petticoat. 44 My dear, I came at 
John’s desire, to make your better acquaintance ; though 
we know each other quite well already, do we not ? 
Would you like to take a little drive with me this morn- 
ing?” 

44 Thank you,” said Libby, holding up her proud little 
head, like a soldier’s on inspection : 44 if you like, Mrs. 
Hildreth.” 

44 1 shouldn’t have asked you, if I had not liked : so 
go and dress directly, my dear, for I prefer not to keep 
the horses waiting. And be sure to bring a shawl, for 
it is cool riding.” 

Libby obeyed, glad to be released, even though she 
had to undertake such a formidable thing as a drive 
with Mrs. Hildreth. 

After her leaving, there was an awkward silence of 
some two or three minutes. Miss Martha took up her 
knitting, and looked as impassive as the tongs* 

44 Quite a piece of news, have we not ? ” asked Mrs. 
Hildreth, breaking in on the silence, with a bored, 
weary look of countenance. 

44 News,” cried Miss Martha, who, like the old Athe- 
nians, was always on the alert for 44 some new thing,” 
44 1 want to know.” 


“BREAKERS AHEAD.’ 


73 




“ You’d better mind your pots and kettles, woman,” 
said her father, with a short, bitter laugh. “ It’s little 
the news is likely to profit you .” 

Mrs. Hildreth perceiving that her intelligence was 
still a dark and unsuspected tiling, and judgingthat she 
might create a sensation if she made it otherwise, un- 
hesitatingly withdrew to a less exciting topic, not being 
fond of sensations. 

“ I thought it probable you had heard already,” she 
said, “ of the company that is going off next week : is 
it possible no one has informed you, Miss Denwitt ? ” 

“ Oh, that ! ” Miss Martha ejaculated, quite crest- 
fallen : “ that’s old news enough.” 

“ So I supposed ; but it is always news to me, — a 
mother, you know, and so devoted to John. I tell him 
he never can have a wife who will be to him one-half 
what I have been.” 

“ Hum ! ” said her hostess, “ that depends.” 

Mrs. Hildreth drew up her eyes, and surveyed Miss 
Martha from head to foot ; then, hearing a quick step in 
the hall, she turned abruptly, as Libby entered with her 
shawl on her arm. 

“ I suppose you didn’t consider, Elizabeth,” said Miss 
Denwitt, “ that the table is to be set for dinner, and 
your Bible-class lesson to learn.” 

“ I beg you will not neglect your duties, Miss Eliza- 
beth,” said Mrs. Hildreth quickly. “ Of course I am 
charmed to take you, and gratify my son ; but, dear me ! 
I wouldn’t interfere in any of your sister’s household 
arrangements.” 

“ Then I will not go, if you please,” Libby was about 
to say, being quite vexed with Mrs. Hildreth, and with 
John for sending her there ; but this thought of John 
restrained her. 7 


74 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“Oh ! I can set the table, I suppose,” said Martha, 
with a weary sigh ; “ it’s a pity I couldn’t learn for you 
too.” 

“ Then, my dear, since your sister is so good, we will 
go at once,” said Mrs. Hildreth. 

Libby, very ill at ease, and mute as the dandelions 
she trod under foot, followed Mrs. Hildreth to the car- 
riage, and they drove away. 

It seemed at first as though nothing would be said, 
and perhaps if the matter had been left with Libby, the 
silence would have lasted to the end of the ride ; for 
resentment and pride both held mastery over her tongue. 
But, having a deal to say, Mrs. Hildreth presently broke 
in upon her companion’s revery. 

“ All is settled, then, between you two : is it so, my 
dear ? ” she asked softly. “ I suppose you feel very 
happy, - — quite exaltee : all girls probably do, on such 
interesting occasions,” she smiled indulgently, as she 
would at some foolish child, inclined to be pleased at a 
trifle. 

“ Such occasions as which, ma’am ? ” asked Libby 
shortly. 

“ Now, really, my dear, that is too much — not quite 
flattering to John, either, I should say. Innocence is 
very sweet ; but of all things avoid affected innocence, 
Miss Libby, and never, I beg you, try to evade a ques- 
tion. Of course we must both agree, you and J, that 
you are wonderfully fortunate in your choice of a hus- 
band; but, dear me, I must confess I was astonished.” 
She indulged in a short, well-bred laugh, which might 
have any meaning one chose to ascribe to it. 

“ Perhaps you would like to say, Mrs. Hildreth, that 
John was not so fortunate in his choice of a wife,” said 
Libby, flushing crimson with vexation. 


“BREAKERS AHEAD. 


75 




“ Pray, ray dear, don’t draw inferences from wliat I 
say : it is very ill-bred, if you will excuse me for saying 
so. I trust John has sufficient judgment, not to err in 
such a matter as this. What I meant and liked to say, 
of course, I said, my dear.” 

Libby was silenced. 

“ It seemed to me, you are both rather too young to 
know your own minds ; but the present generation is 
strangely precocious — more’s the pity. Put an infant 
into short dresses, and it cries for a pair of pants or a 
wedding-veil directly.” She smiled, and patted Libby’s 
hand as it lay on the cushion of the carriage. 

“ I am very sorry Mrs. Hildreth should not be con- 
tent with me,” Libby returned proudly. 

Mrs. Hildreth put this strange little specimen under 
a close survey for a moment or two, then shook her 
head, and exclaimed, “ Tut, tut,” several times. 

“ Here we are again, my dear. How you do jump at 
conclusions ! it is surely improper. If I speak of a 
generation, you apply it all to yourself. We were not 
speaking of Miss Elizabeth Denwitt personally, and 
you have no need to carry every thing home.” 

She tapped her horses lightly with the whip, and they 
started very swiftly over the level road. 

“ I must say though,” she continued, “ that, pleased 
as I may be, I was a good deal surprised in more wa}'s 
than one. After all, it is a difficult thing to read char- 
acter. John sent me to tell you how pleased we were, 
Miss Libby, — his grandmother and myself. You know 
John’s father is abroad at present, or without doubt 
we should have his warm approval as well.” 

The lady spoke a little as though she were reciting 
a set speech, and seemed glad when it was over. 


7G 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ You were surprised, Mrs. Hildretli ? ” asked Libby, 
coining out of a revery. 

Mrs Hildreth smiled indulgently. 

“ Yes, oh ! yes, it is my way to be surprised. I was 
surprised when John told me he was going to the war, 
although I knew from the first he would want to go. 
My being surprised is a matter of little moment, my 
dear.” 

“ But what surprised you ?” persisted this inquisitive 
little girl. 

“You both surprised me, Miss Libby, both John and 
you, at your choice, — you because you chose a help- 
meet from the world. I don’t pretend to much knowl- 
edge of such things, but I’ve heard this was counted 
a sin in the church. Then, too ” — 

“ But, Mrs. Hildreth, what do you mean ? ” Libby 
repeated wonderingly, while a shadow crept over her 
heart. 

“ You should never interrupt, dear child, if you will 
pardon me for reproving you. What was I saying? 
oh, yes ! it’s the church and the world always ; and I 
suppose that is perfectly right. Some people’s con- 
sciences are hurt by a breach of such rules. You 
remember the old Hebrews in Scripture were forbid- 
den to intermarry with the other nations, lest they 
should be led astray.” 

“And so you think I have done wrong?” asked 
Libby. 

“ Wrong ! it is not likely I should say you do wrong 
in loving my son, or that you are too good for him, is 
it?” Mrs. Hildreth laughed softly. “ There, my dear, 
we will let it rest. You will make John a very sweet 
little wife, I dare say, if you are so different ; and for 


“BREAKERS AHEAD.' 


77 


95 


the rest, if your conscience is clear, of course we shall 
be very glad of it.” 

“ Indeed, Mrs. Hildreth, my conscience had not 
reproved me in the least,” said Libby. 

“No?” Mrs. Hildreth raised her eyebrows in well- 
bred surprise. “ Pray don’t let us speak of it again. 
How chill it is this morning ! are you quite well wrapped 
up, my dear? Young girls are so imprudent! Perhaps 
you are not fond of reading the Apostle Paul on mar- 
riage.” 

“ You want me to understand very plainly,” said 
Libby, “ that you think it wrong of me to marry John 
because he is not a Christian.” 

“ How very blunt you are, my child ! ” said Mrs. Hil- 
dreth, shuddering as if a sharp wind had struck her. 
“ I thought, since you had so lately united with the 
church, you might be quite persistent on these little 
points. The Bible speaks of a 4 first love,’ does it not ? 
and these young converts are apt to be very zealous in 
following out the letter \of the law. You have gotten 
over this perhaps : it is only natural.” 

How Libby’s heart ached, with what a dull heavy 
pain ! and she was grieved through and through, to 
hear this woman of the world speak so lightly of her 
religion and hope. The zeal of the “ young convert ” 
was a wonderful thing sometimes ; but after all it was 
not the zeal of the old, battle-tried soldier, to which 
all things are become easy in the strength of Christ. 

“ Come, come, don’t be foolish,” said the lady. 44 1 
see I have fretted you, but I meant nothing unkind. 
You will have to wait some time, my dear ; for you know, 
even after the war is over, John must find some busi- 
ness occupation. To be sure, he has quite a little for- 
7 * 


78 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


tune left by bis grandfather, enough to keep you both 
comfortably ; but John would never be content unless 
he was at work in the world.” 

“ I should hope not,” said Libby shortly. 

“ So you must make up your mind to whatever is 
before you. Why here we are at home again, so soon ! 
You must remember that John is my idol, and that I 
have never attempted to cross him : of course it would 
not do for you to begin, my dear child. There, of 
course you won’t : I have no doubt you will be a good 
girl, and we shall get on charmingly. Why, what a 
child you are, to be sure ! your face is as soft as a baby’s. 
There, good-by.” 

And the lady stooped to leave a kiss on the forehead 
of this child, who should be her daughter some day ; 
but, once in the porch, Libby wiped off the kiss with 
her handkerchief, as though it had been some visible 
stain. The lady had vexed her : more than that, she 
had left a gnawing and a pain at her heart, and driven 
away the sunshine from her eyes. 

Libby was glad J ohn had no mind to live in South- 
cliff after he returned, — very glad ; and she had heard 
him speak of this too recently to have any doubt on 
the subject. She was glad this mother-in-law would 
not be always near, to spy into her actions with those 
half-closed curious eyes. 

This spent Libb}^’s anger ; partly because of the 
sorrow and the dread, the vague anticipation of coming 
bitterness, that lay beneath. She only longed to escape 
to her own room, and bury her head in the pillows, 
while she thought and prayed over this difficult prob- 
lem. Surely it would all come right in the end, with- 
out any shadow of ill-feeling coming between her and 
John. 


“ BREAKERS AHEAD.' 


79 


5? 


Martha heard the carriage drive up at the gate, and 
hurried to the sitting-room in time to prevent Libby 
from running up stairs. 

“ Come and finish the table, as soon as ever you take 
off your bonnet,” she said ; “ and don’t stand fooling 
around up stairs, as you always do. Though I suppose 
I can do all the work, for the matter of that : it don’t 
seem to make any difference.” 

“ Oh, dear ! I wish I ever could have a minute to 
myself,” cried Libby. 

“ Yes, that’s always the way,” Martha sighed as she 
closed the door after her sister. 

“It isn’t wrong forme to love John: oh, dear ! it 
can’t be,” moaned Libby, half crying as she pulled 
nervously at the strings of her bonnet. “But I can’t 
have a minute to think about it — not a minute — if 
my heart breaks. I wish dinner-tables and every thing 
else were at Halifax.” 

Martha met her with another sigh. 

“ I suppose you haven’t had the morning to yourself, 
child, driving round the country for more than an hour, 
like a fine lady ? I wish I could ever teach you to feel 
some gratitude.” 

“ Gratitude isn’t taught: it comes of itself,” Libby 
retorted. “ What ever made you go and set the table, 
Mart, when you knew I’d be down in a minute ? ■ You 
did it to vex me, I just believe.” 

“ Your ride didn’t do you much good, Elizabeth, from 
the temper you’ve brought back with you.” 

Martha was setting up the chairs as she spoke, and 
giving a final master-touch to the table-cloth : in a 
moment Libby must sit down and eat with the others. 
She walked to the window, and began aimlessly drum- 


80 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


ming on the pane. How very cross she was growing, 
how very ill-tempered ! 

But, though fully conscious of it, she only gazed from 
the window with weary, indifferent eyes. She was 
very tired of struggling. Where was it all to end ? 
Were the sacrifices always to come on, thicker and 
faster ? It seemed that, so soon as she learned to need 
a thing, she must give it up, and turn from it as from a 
sin. There had been dancing a while ago : she loved 
it so well, that they told her for that very reason it 
would be an evil to her, and she ought to give it up ; so 
she yielded without a murmur. There had been this 
and that since, — so many things, and all the little ones 
in between. She was not regretting them, oh, no ! for 
she knew well, in the depths of her heart, that she 
never had been so happy, with such a strange, solid 
happiness, as when she laid these little things at her 
Saviour’s feet. But were the sacrifices always to be, 
and yet no strength come from them, for other and 
greater sacrifices in the future ? Where was the new 
strength from all this struggling ? Even her tongue 
sinned constantly: if she held it in one moment, it 
went tripping the next. 

A little bird at this fluttered before the window, and 
alighted on the narrow border of grass which sur- 
rounded Miss Martha’s balsam bed ; then, spreading its 
wings again, it flew a trifle farther, and surmounted 
some small object among the gooseberry, bushes, — a 
little half-fledged nestling taking its first lesson in the 
art of flying. Its efforts were so very weak, that Libby 
smiled half in pity as she watched them, and wondered 
at the exhaustless patience of the little brown teacher, 
with strong wings and watchful black eyes, who hov- 


44 BREAKERS AHEAD. 


81 




ered aloft in the gooseberry bushes. First the little 
wings would flutter vainly for a moment ; then would 
follow a hazardous flight of six inches or more, and a 
sure and grievous fall. Again the larger bird would 
hover above the nestling, as if showing over for the 
twentieth time the manner of this art of flying, and 
the great perfection to which it might be carried. The 
pupil with untiring patience would flutter and rise 
anew, to meet once more with the same humiliating 
failure. Was not this a life-work to the nestling? and 
what was discouragement or failure in so grand a 
cause, and with so sure a teacher ? Again the little 
wings were spread, over and over, without a shadow of 
discouragement or flagging, until the tyro fairly lighted 
on a branch of the gooseberry bush ; and, with a chirp 
of supreme delight at its victory, went toppling over to 
the ground once more. 

44 But it will fly,” thought Libby ; 44 and that patient 
little teacher with the strong, encouraging wings, will 
never give it up, or despair, until it soars among the 
tree-tops with its brothers. Gooseberry bushes will be 
little to crow over then.”- 

She applied the moral in a wistful way to herself, and 
wondered if sometimes, in her elation at little victories, 
she had not missed the achieving of greater ones, 
notwithstanding her own tireless, patient Teacher. 

44 Well, Elizabeth, will you have your dinner, or not? 
I’ve called you three times, and father’s waiting to cut 
the steak.” 

44 Oh ! ” said Libby, starting from her revery — “yes, 
I suppose so, Martha.” 

Martha sighed. 44 If you’d ever learn to have a little 
consideration,” she said. 


82 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Libby found consideration and patience quite unat- 
tainable in her own strength, that afternoon ; for the 
dinner things were scarcely set away, and a vision of 
rest and reflection gladdening her eyes, when Mrs. J ob 
Horn’s angular visage darkened the door, and her 
unwelcome voice proclaimed to Libby that she had 
brought her knitting around to “ take a set ” with her- 
self and Miss Martha while “ Job rode to town.” 

Libby wondered why Mr. Horn had not had the 
“consideration” to take his wife to town as well as 
himself, and concluded rather uncharitably that, like 
another and better Job, he might have found her an 
unpleasant travelling companion. 

Mrs. Horn, as usual, had a deal to say. First, on all 
manner of household topics relating to herself: how 
the roof had “ taken to leak,” and Job had gone to 
town for some one to mend it — Southclitf workmen 
were not worth a “ cast-off shoe ; ” how the brindle 
cow had lost one of her horns, and the chickens had 
been dying with the pip ; then, leaving that, how Peggy 
had caught a cold last sabbath from the draught, because 
Deacon Marshall would leave his window open in meet- 
ing ; and how she had lost a week’s schooling in conse- 
quence : furthermore, upon that, how smart Peggy was 
growing, and what a clever scholar. It “ beat every thing 
arthly,” how she “ rattled off the words ” in her reading- 
book, and the wonderful questions she asked ; besides 
showing very plainly on an apple, exactly where she 
lived, and just how the world went round. 

Libby — who saw with the eye of her mind a red- 
haired, inquisitive child of some ten or twelve summers, 
who always carried a dirty face and fingers, and who, 
whatever wisdom she might have acquired, had never 


“BREAKERS AHEAD. 


83 




made any progress in the lore of politeness — tapped 
her foot impatiently, and wondered how it would answer 
to run away, leaving Martha to “ do the honors.” Mrs. 
Horn having passed from Peggy to “ the hoys,” Libby 
was feeling strongly inclined to be as unmannerly as 
Peggy herself, when she heard Kate Telfair’s laugh in 
the garden; and, a moment after, she and Clemantha 
Douglass took possession of Libby’s wandering attention, 
carrying her off in triumph where she had been longing 
to be, in her own little room. 

IIow they talked ! So many things to tell, and so 
much to laugh over, that it was growing dusk when 
they rose to go. 

“ Do hear the drums again ! ” cried Clem, as they all 
three walked to the gate. “ I get so tired of that con- 
stant rub-a-dub in my ears, and John Plildreth ; and 
all the fun going off too.” 

“ Libby don't fret : she’ll have the parson left, you 
know, as she told us the other night,” laughed Kate. 

“ I doubt the parson don’t go too,” said Clem. 
“ He’s always hanging around, pa says, when John drills 
the boys, — sticks most as close as the little deacon. 
‘ Straws show which way the wind blows.’ ” 

“ A fine looking soldier he’d make too,” said Kate. 
“ Good-night, dear.” There was a gentle tone in her 
voice, a something quite free from all ridicule or re- 
proach. “ Be sure to come to-morrow, Libby,” she said. 
“ I must hurry home ; for I’m afraid I don’t know a 
word of my lesson.” 

Clem shrugged her shoulders. “ I nevzr do,” she 
said. “ If I have a question that staggers me, I always 
resort to the ten lost tribes or the millennium. I have 
a dozen leading remarks on them both ; and the parson 


84 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


gets so puzzled he’s glad to shorten the discussion, and 
let me off.” 

“ What a fib ! ” said Kate. “ I never saw him puzzled 
in my life : of course he grows tired of such worn-out 
topics.” 

Clem shrugged her shoulders. “ Good night, Libby,” 
she said. “ You’re as sweet as a pink.” 

And, “ Good-night again,” said Kate. 

Libby stood and watched them away with a sigh, 
then went in to set the table for supper. 

John Hildreth came to see her that evening; and, 
although she tried to throw off the dread which pressed 
on her heart, she could not prevent his noticing some 
slight strangeness in her, a weird uneasiness, a hovering 
restlessly from one subject to another. 

They stood on the porch for a moment or two, before 
he went into the sitting-room ; for John had a request 
to prefer, which lay very near his heart. Would Libby 
let him tell her father how matters stood, so making 
their engagement a fair and honorable thing, as he 
wished it to be, and the way smooth for herself after 
he had left with his command ? 

It must have been far from a pleasant prospect which 
John had in mind when he spoke of holding a parley 
on love with old George Denwitt. Yet he was greatly 
disappointed when Libby refused him leave. He ven- 
tured to argue a little, at the expense of her dis- 
pleasure, for she was not good-humored that night. It 
seemed to him the only honorable course to take ; and 
surely she would not let him go for so long a separa- 
tion, with any doubt upon his mind. 

“ Don’t vex me, John,” she said. “ No, I won’t be- 
kissed or coaxed into it. Something ails me to-night. 


“BREAKERS AHEAD.' 


85 


Be good this once, and let me rest, only over sabbath. 
Please , John, not to-night.” And when she put up her 
lips to him, a little shyly, yet quite of her own accord, 
of course, whether it were wise or not, John yielded at 
once, and accepted the pledge of peace. 

He went into the sitting-room then, and had a long 
discussion on politics with Mr. Denwitt, who showed 
considerable annoyance at seeing him, and differed from 
him on every point they discussed ; while Libby wound 
yarn for Martha’s knitting. 

It was a prosaic evening, without doubt; yet John 
took a deal of pleasure in looking up, now and then, to 
meet Libby’s glance ; and, when he left at last, Libby 
looked down the road with longing eyes, and wondered 
in her own heart, if ever again they should have so 
perfect an evening together. 

“ I wonder what brings that fellow here,” said Martha 
dryly, as she closed and barred the shutters. “ If he 
thinks to make a convert of father, he’s reckoned with- 
out his host. Father never did take to politics.” 

“ I’m sure he had no such idea,” Libby answered. 

“Well, he needn’t come sharking round again,” said 
the old man. “ He’s a Hildreth, and I hate the Hil- 
dreths, — proud as Lucifer ! He needn’t come round 
here much, or I’ll teach him a lesson.” 

And Libby’s love arose with tenfold power, to defy 
all obstacles. She went to bed at last, with a quieted 
conscience, a conscience not satisfied, but lulled to rest; 
for, almost wishing it to sleep, she had drugged it unwit- 
tingly with her specious reasonings. She wished to be 
sincere, this little girl ; but the cross which had fallen 
to her lot was very heavy for her to lift at once, and 
bear without a murmur. 

8 


86 THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 

She tried to lay the case before her mind, as she 
sat by her open window, with only the stars to watch 
her. 

What a foolish thing it was, that she should let a 
few words upset her in this fashion ! Had not God 
meant her to be happy ? and had he not given this great 
blessing to her, right from his own hand, — a loving, 
merciful hand ? and would she not be very ungrateful 
and unchildlike in refusing to accept it? This John 
Hildreth had no part with her Saviour — no ; but, after 
all, he was so good and true, only a very little way 
from the kingdom, ready to enter at a word ; and the 
44 little way ” God might let her lead him. Oh, what a 
faithful guide she would be ! how cautious, above all, to 
44 let her light shine,” never denying her Saviour in 
word or deed or semblance, lest John should be 44 of- 
fended,” and her Master grieved ! 

Sitting there in the starlight, alone with God and her 
own heart, it seemed a very easy matter to lead this 
wandering soul to Christ. This was her mission-field, 
spread out close before her own door-step. She need 
not go to India, or Africa, or the islands of the sea,* not 
even to the outcast and poor of her own land, to find 
her task. For every day she would have work at her 
hand to do for Christ ; and every day she would do it, 
oh, how truly and well ! 

But would he lead her astray? That could never 
be, when he loved her so entirely. She would not fancy 
such a thing. It must be right to love him. God 
would never be so cruel as to show her a beautiful gift, 
let her take it in her hands, and dream how happy it 
would make her, only to ask it back again before she 
could feel that it was her own. He could never be so 
pitiless. 


“ BREAKERS AHEAD.” 87 

As for the example she was setting, what had that to 
do with so great a question ? For one moment she held 
it in view. Must she always deny herself lest the world 
should be offended ? — the world which took offence at 
even the blessed Lord, — such a world ! Must she 
grieve John, and make his life a misery to him, lest 
some who were none too good themselves should point 
a finger at her ? 

“ I’ll go to bed,” she said at last. “ I’m worn out 
with thinking ; and every thing will look brighter in 
the morning. But I never can give him up, never;” 

After which, Libby laid her tired head to rest on the 
battle-field. And she never dreamed that in days to 
come she might have cause to thank God more truly 
and heartfully for the gift he had taken from her, than 
for those he had given her to keep. 


88 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER VI. 

ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 

HINGS certainly did look brighter in the morn- 



-L ing, as Libby had foreseen : for the matter of 
that, they usually do ; and a little of the neglected 
sunshine of this golden sabbath morning cast a lustre 
over even Libby’s troubles and cares. Although she 
carefully avoided, as yet, any rpnewal of last night’s 
conflict, yet she sang a little in an undertone as she 
went about her dressing. 

Mr. Hilton had a sore throat, which, having lasted 
several days, made his preaching that sabbath quite 
out of the question. As this was his last opportunity 
before the little company left Southcliff, and as he had 
hoped to speak a few words of love and warning to 
them before their leaving, he felt his illness as a very 
serious trial, which he must bear with the best grace lie 
could. 

No one knew where he had been for a substitute ; 
and perhaps, after the first half-hour in church, all were 
so absorbed in the substitute himself, as to forget to 
wonder concerning it. Certainly, from the moment the 
hymn was announced, he drew all wandering minds to 
himself. 

A solemn-looking old man he was, with grave blue 
eyes, and a stern, firm-set mouth. One would have 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


89 


thought his face severe, except for the look of tender- 
ness that broke over it at times. To Libby, he seemed 
like one of the old prophets, Elijah or Samuel or Isaiah, 
sent with a message from God, which he knew himself 
bound to deliver ; and when he stretched out his hands 
she bowed her head instinctively, as though she were 
waiting for a blessing. 

Every one was looking for an appropriate sermon 
that morning ; not a war sermon exactly, but one clearly 
referring to the event which should take place that 
week, and which was in so many thoughts. For this 
reason every one was disappointed when the minister 
read his text. 

“ Re ye not unequally yoked together with unbeliev- 
ers.” He read it slowly, as if this were his message, 
and he should not fail in any part of it. 

Libby started in terror at the words, and looked 
quickly across the church at John Hildreth, perhaps to 
see if they had any more impression upon him than 
ordinary words. There was no doubt they had not. 
John was looking at her, it is true ; and when he 
caught her eye he smiled in the old mischievous way 
that he had used ten years before, when she looked shyly 
across the church at him. Only there was a tenderness 
through all the mischief now, and certainly no thought 
of making any serious application of the minister’s 
words. 

“ Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbeliev- 
ers,” the clergyman repeated, while he glanced keenly 
around through his spectacles as though trying to sever 
the chaff from the wheat in this particular community. 
While some of the old elders and deacons marvelled 
at the strange text, and questioned in their own minds 
8 * 


90 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


if no word for the young soldiers would come from it, 
Libby was- saying to herself, “ It is for me , only for me, 
that he has come to preach to-day : he means to talk 
right at my heart, and search out all the corners.” 

She sat with her hands tightly holding each other, 
and her eyes fastened on this solemn old man. A long 
ray of sunlight from the side window, falling across 
her forehead, gave a golden tint to her hair, while her 
face was flushed, and her lips half apart, in an uncon- 
scious eagerness. John Hildreth thought she seemed a 
very saint, — the sweetest saint in his calendar: he 
looked at her instead of the preacher ; and all the good 
he received, at least from the first of the sermon, came 
to him through the medium of Libby’s earnest face and 
tearful eyes. 

While John sat watching her, and the minister 
preached, Libby felt herself drifting away to sea. All 
her pretty reasons and pleas of the night before seemed 
to vanish like shadows in her grasp. She wondered if 
she had ever held them, or if they had been mere 
phantasms and allurements of the midnight. For this 
strong man seemed to hurl the Bible at her secret soul, 
tramping ruthlessly on all her arguments and shifts and 
heart-comfortings. Of course he knew nothing of her, 
more than another ; yet he was talking to her, and 
others like her, telling them bitter truths which were 
hard to be received, and driving his words home with a 
master-hand. 

No good had ever yet been gained, he told them, by 
departing from the commandment of the Lord : no 
man had ever won a blessing through “ doing evil that 
good might come.” No one had ever joined for life, 
his heart or hers, to an “ alien from the commonwealth 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


91 


of Israel,” without putting themselves in the path of 
a grievous wrong, and turning their eyes away from 
Him who bought them. 

“ Ye shall observe to do as the Lord your God hath 
commanded you : ye shall not turn aside to the right 
hand or to the left.” 

“ Nothing for the soldiers,” said Mrs. Horn : “ well, 
I never thought my boys would be call to go without 
a ‘ word in season.’ It isn’t right in my mind.” 

Mrs. Horn must always have her word of censure : if 
the sermon had been an admonition to the soldiers, she 
would have thought it a pity her “ poor boys ” might 
not have a little peace from lecturing when they were 
going away for so long. 

The words came, — earnest, tender words, and full of 
fervor. Almost while Mrs. Horn was speaking to her 
neighbors, he appealed to the brave young soldiers 
who were to leave that week, for posts of danger or 
death perhaps. He besought them in thrilling words 
to carry the Lord Christ in their hearts, seeking his 
guardianship above all others. That they might most 
surely have his favor, and his help in all temptation, 
he warned them to choose their friends, their nearest 
friends, from those who loved the Saviour’s name and 
cause ; not to . be “ unequally yoked together with 
unbelievers.” Mrs. Horn felt the tears dimming her 
own eyes, and was herself “ almost persuaded to be a 
Christian.” 

There was more, much more ; but Libby, for one, 
scarcely heard it. She went mechanically through the 
singing of the hymn, and bowed her head to receive the 
benediction; but all the time she was saying in her 
heart, “ He is a hard, stern old man, — so old that he 
forgets what it was to be young and in love.” 


92 


THE GOOD FIG AT OF FAITH. 


As she passed down the aisle, she bowed to one and 
another, without any distinct consciousness of who 
they were ; only realizing that a confused vision of faces 
passed before her eyes, and among them all, distinct 
and clear, John Hildreth, walking down the other aisle, 
by his mother’s side. 

44 He is a stern old man,” she thought again ; 44 why 
should his word be gospel to me? Mr. Hilton could 
never have said the things that he has said to-day.” 

As she thought this, standing in the porch with 
Martha, she turned her, and saw Mr. Hilton in the 
pulpit, shaking the stern old man by the hand, with a 
cordiality which might almost seem to indorse every 
word that had been spoken. But Libby would not see 
the matter in that way. On the other hand, she took 
a new fancy into her strange little head, which brought 
her a shadow of comfort. 

At this, John’s hand touched hers. 

44 Come, Libby,” he said. 44 It is time to quit watch- 
ing the minister now.” 

Libby shivered, and turned to him for comfort, as 
one will often turn in despair to the thing that can 
help them least. 

44 John,” she questioned, 44 was it all true that he 
said?” 

John shrugged his shoulders. 

44 I’m not competent to judge, Libby,” he answered. 

44 Oh, John ! ” she said. 

John drew her arm tenderly through his, as they 
went down the quiet road between the maple-trees; 
Libby forgetting to wonder what people would think, 
or how Martha would get home without her. 

44 1 took my sermon in another form,” said John ; 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


93 


“ and I thought it equally good and saintly. It will be 
better than a psalm to take with me, Libby.” 

Libby made no answer. She scarcely understood the 
drift of John’s remark ; for she was thinking busily, 
how she could slip off to Mrs. Marsey’s that afternoon, 
unknown to any one, and have a talk with her pastor, 
on what lay so near her heart. There was no doubt he 
could help her, and solve all these difficult problems to 
her utter satisfaction. It was surely some nightmare 
she was under now: if she gave herself a vigorous 
shake, perhaps she might open her eyes to find it all a 
dream, and the morning sun shining in her room. She 
had so often done this in her sleep, when every thing 
had been much more real than it seemed to her now. 

“ Well, Libby,” said John. 

u I wish you’d give me a hearty shake,” she answered 
wistfully ; half believing in her own vague fancies of 
nightmares and visions. 

John laughed softly, but looked incredulous. 

“ I was thinking,” she began ; and then smiled, with 
a strange fear that he might weary of her already, find- 
ing her so dull and silent, — a very needless and un- 
called-for fear. 

“Put your thought into speech, little girl,” said 
John. “ Are you taking me home to dinner now, or 
must I invite myself to tea?” 

And Libby, with a vague dread of what might come, 
and a longing to cling to all possible present comfort, 
said she* would like to take him home to dinner, if he 
chose to go. 

She shrank from telling him what lay near her heart, 
as she would have shrank from the surgeon’s knife, if 
she had needed it. 


94 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 Martlia,” she said, opening the sitting-room door, 
and bringing John suddenly within the range of that 
lady’s vision, 44 I’ve brought John Hildreth home to 
dinner ; it may be the last time for ever so long, you 
know.” 

Martha, who was untying her bonnet strings, looked 
up for a moment in utter amazement ; but when J ohn 
had come forward in his frank fashion, and cordially 
shaken her hand, she saw fit to look indulgently upon 
him ; perhaps because it was the last time. She told 
him then, it was 44 all right,” she supposed, though 
they hadn’t been used to visitors of a sabbath ; but he’d 
have to put up with cold pork and beans, as they never 
had any Sunday cooking done. 

John was declaring his approval of such strict regula- 
tions, which Libby doubted, and his preference for 
pork and beans above all other luxuries, when old 
George Denwitt, suddenly starting from his revery, 
turned his keen eyes full upon his daughter. 

44 Young woman,” he cried, rising, and stamping his 
cane on the floor, 44 when did a sabbath visitor ever 
darken these doors before ? Is this the way you keep 
your fine professions, with your Christianity and your 
creeds? Are you going after the ways of the world 
again, and serving Baal and Ash taro th, where every 
one can see ? I'll have you keep to your professions, or 
stop making ’em.” 

The hand that held the staff trembled with age and 
excitement, while the gray hairs and growing weakness 
of this strong, self-satisfied old sinner, touched a chord 
in John Hildreth’s heart. 

44 1 beg your pardon, sir,” he said, lifting his head in 
a way which had no show of pride, but much forbear- 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


05 


ance, and gentleness too ; “ I had not thought of your 
principles in these matters.” 

“ You thought, because your own feet had departed 
from the right way, that your neighbors must be going 
wrong. I keep the sabbath still, young man, as my 
fathers did before me. You’ll do well to have so clear 
a conscience as I have.” 

“ Thank you,” said John simply, as though in 
receiving a favor. “I hope you will overlook my 
intrusion — no, Libby, don’t mention it again. I 
should take dinner with my mother, this last sabbath. 
I have already let her ride home without me. Good 
morning, Miss Demvitt, and thank you.” 

But Libby followed him out to the porch among the 
sweet honeysuckle vines. 

“ O John ! I’m so sorry and ashamed ! ” she said. 

“ This comes from begging invitations,” he answered 
gently in an undertone. “ You mustn’t think hard of 
me, dear, for being such a reprobate. Your father was 
just though, and we won’t mention it again.” 

“ I’ll always remember this of you, John : you are 
very kind,” she said, laying her hands in his, and bowing 
her head for a moment upon them. 

“ Sweetest of all my hopes ! ” he whispered, drawing 
her close to his heart. “ You never will know the half 
that you are to me, darling.” 

Then, with one half-smothered sob, Libby broke 
loose from his arms, and went back to her dinner. 

“ Not such a bad-intentioned young man, after all,’ , 
said Martha gravely; “wants judicious training more 
than most ; but I guess he’s open to instruction.” 

“ I tell you, Elizabeth,” said her father sternly, “ that, 
whatever John Hildreth wants with you, he can’t come 


96 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


spying round when I’m about. If you want to marry 
him, marry him and go to Babylon. I won’t have 
aught to do with a Hildreth.” 

Libby scarcely knew which of all her troubles was 
the worst. Her way seemed so narrow, and hedged 
about with difficulties ! There was one thing she 
might do, — carry all these to her Saviour in prayer; but 
she had a secret fear in her heart, that if she took her 
difficulties to him, with desire to have them solved 
according to his will, he would bid her take up the 
cross, with all its pain and misery, to bear it after him. 
Bather, she prayed that he would in his mercy, his 
infinite mercy, spare her the grief, which she only 
looked at dimly as in a vision, and which still seemed 
an impossible thing to her heart, — a thing to dream of, 
wishing one’s self awake. 

Thinking that Mr. Hilton might prove a more 
lenient judge than his substitute, and after wearying 
herself all the afternoon with her thoughts and queries, 
she wrapped her cloak about her, just at nightfall, and 
choosing the longer road, where she would be least 
remarked, she walked to Eli Marsey’s in quest of the 
minister. 

This was another perfect day, with as many field 
flowers under foot and by the roadside as there were 
on her white day, when she loved them all so well. 
Now she had no eyes for their beauty ; and the sweet 
evening air passed over her forehead, blowing away 
some stray locks of hair, while she never noticed how 
fragrant it was with wild honeysuckle and clover. 
Only intent on the rambling brown house at the end 
of the lane, she set this before her as a goal, where all 
her troubles would in some way end ; and yet, when she 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


97 


reached it, stood motionless on tliQ doorstep, half in 
doubt whether she should not turn back and abandon 
the undertaking. 

Eli himself solved the problem. 

“ Hey! Elizabeth Denwitt ! ” he called out from the 
side gate, in his brisk, cheery voice. “ Want to see the 
old woman a bit? She’s to hum, I guess. Jest step 
inter the sittin’-room, an’ I’ll hunt her up.” 

“ Mr. Hilton,” she faltered shyly : “ is he home, Mr. 
Marsey? I’d like to speak with him a moment, 
please.” 

“Oh, ah! yes — jest step in a bit, an’ I’ll let him 
know. Want to see the parson, hey? now, that’s all 
proper. He’s pooty bad with his throat, the parson is ; 
and the old woman’s been a-doctorin’ on him with 
yarbs. Talking to the parson’s a right thing, any- 
how.” 

So Libby had thought. If she might not go to her 
pastor with her doubts and troubles, to what earthly 
friend could she go ? and one almost always seeks for 
tangible earthly help and counsel when ways are 
hedged about and things seem dark or puzzling. 

“You’d just as well step up to the parson’s study, 
come to think on’t,” said the old gentleman, pausing at 
the foot of the stairs. “ He’s allers open to company, 
the parson is, an’ I’m free to confess my rheumatics is 
a-pullin’ at me more’n common to-night.” 

“ Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Marsey ; I will go right 
up,” said Libby. “Thank you; don’t go any farther: 
I can find the way.” 

Which was no difficult matter, the upper hall being 
large and light, with all the windows thrown open to 
admit the evening air and the setting sunlight. Then, 


98 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


too, the study-door was a little ajar, perhaps that its 
occupant might not fail in hearing the tea-bell rung. 

“ May I come in ? ” she asked, without knocking. 
“ It’s I, Libby Denwitt.” 

A quick movement within, and the apparent falling 
of some heavy book ; then in a moment the door was 
thrown quite wide, and Libby stood face to face with 
her pastor. He seemed a little startled and off guard, 
besides looking very pale and tired. He was not used 
to sabbath-evening visitors, perhaps. 

“Pray come in and be seated, Miss Libby,” he said, 
grasping her hand with a hearty welcome nevertheless. 

“Yes, I will,” she answered; then pausing in the 
middle of the floor entered on the subject abruptly. 

“Mr. Hilton,” she said, “I came to ask you if you 
think it was quite fair, — all that old minister said this 
morning ? ” 

“ In what respect unfair? ” he asked with some sur- 
prise in his voice, as he drew up his own easy-chair by 
the window, and seated Libby within it. 

“Would you have preached it yourself? would 
you have thought it needful to say such hard* cruel 
things ?” she questioned eagerly, growing flushed and 
vehement with the thoughts that lay at her heart. 

“ I don’t think I understand you,” he answered 
quietly, seating himself beside her, with his head bent 
on his hand. Something of a revelation seemed to come 
to him that moment, with a chilling sense of loneliness 
and loss. We are called so suddenly at times, without 
a moment’s warning, to face the great struggles of our 
lives. 

“But why not?” she asked, seeing her own mind 
very clearly ; “ why shouldn’t you understand me, Mr. 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


99 


Hilton? Would you yourself have preached such a 
sermon ? I beg you to tell me.” 

He turned away from the eager eyes which ques- 
tioned him. 

“I trust so,” he answered, “if God had hidden me, 
and if he had given me the power to do it.” 

“ But it was hard doctrine,” she said, “ very, vciy 
hard. Oh, Mr. Hilton, if you should love a woman ! ” 

He raised his head, and looked at her for a moment. 
There was something in that steady, listening look, of 
either grief or love, that awed and touched her, inter- 
rupted her words in the midst, and quieted the passion 
at her heart. 

She was silent then, resting her head back on the 
cushions of Mr. Hilton’s lounging-chair. 

“ I am listening, my friend,” he said quietly. 

“ Suppose you, sir, loved a woman who was not a 
Christian.” The voice was calmer now, with a hopeless 
cadence through it. 

He started as if he would have spoken, yet held back 
his words by some strong necessity. 

“ And suppose you had loved her,” Libby went on, 
“ even before you were a Christian yourself. Then 
suppose some one preached you such a sermon as that.” 

He pushed back the hair which fell damp and heavy 
over his forehead : perhaps the argumentum ad hominem 
had its weight with him. 

“ I cannot tell, in such a case, what sore temptations 
might beset me,” he answered, “ nor how well I should 
resist them. Miss Libby.” 

“ But would it be right for you to resist them ? ” she 
cried. “ Wouldn’t it be right and best for you to love 
her still ? ” 


100 THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 

“ Love is a thing which cannot be bidden to go or 
stay,” he answered, growing very pale. “ Many waters 
cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it. I 
should love her still, Miss Libby.” 

“Love her, and marry her?” she asked, leaning 
forward with renewed eagerness. “Wouldn’t it be 
right ? ” 

“ I have only God’s word to go by, my friend ; and 
you have that, as well as I.” 

“ Oh ! tell me what I must do,” she cried, “ you who 
are so wise and good, have pity on me, for I have no 
one to ask but you ; and — X want to know for my 
own self.” 

He had known as much before, and yet the vivid 
reality of this plain truth, so plainly spoken, which 
came direct from her own lips, and might not be doubted 
or questioned, seemed to shut away all the light and 
happiness for a moment from his life. He gave no sign 
of wretchedness or pain, unless it were a nervous pres- 
sure of the lips, and some heavy drops of perspiration 
which gathered on his forehead. This he could not 
help, — but all that his will might do to master his 
weak heart was done. 

u Why did you come with this to me. Miss Denwitt ? ” 
he asked her presently. 

“ Forgive me for troubling you,” she said, “ but you 
are my pastor, and able to give me advice and help.” 

“ Alas ! no, I am not able,” he answered. 

“ What can I do ? ” she questioned wringing her 
hands together. “ My heart draws me one way, and 
my conscience the other : what can I do ? ” 

He surely knew it would be sin for this girl to violate 
her conscience, when it spoke so plainly to her. Yet 
he could not tell her this. 


ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 


101 


“ Is there nothing due to those who love us ? ” she 
asked him eagerly. “ Don’t we owe them love and 
happiness in return ? How can I tell one duty from 
another ? ” 

“ Which is the duty you owe to God ? ” he asked 
gently. 

“ You are turning against me,” she cried bitterly. 
“ Is all the world to turn against me, — one poor, weak 
girl ? Are so many Christians to blunder and sin every 
day, — to marry with the world, and never give it a 
thought, — while only I am to be singled out to bear 
the burden and the pain ? ” 

He bent his head, and covered his eyes with his hands 
If she had not been so absorbed in her sorrow, she 
would have read a secret in them, perhaps ; and, it may 
be, she would have been more pitiful. 

“ Do you shut me out from all I have in the world? ” 
she persisted wilfully. 

“ God forbid that I should shut you out from any 
pleasant thing,” he answered her. 

“ You can’t tell me how to go ? You can’t guide 
me?” 

“ I cannot guide you, Miss Libby. My Lord is the 
only faithful guide that I have ever found. I can put 
your hand in his, and bid you trust him. Shall we pray 
together for guidance ? ” 

She put her hand quickly into his ; and they knelt 
side by side before the easy-chair, while the minister 
prayed with all the earnestness of his soul, that this 
puzzled lamb might be plainly guided, and by other 
and with tenderer care than he in his weakness could 
render her. 

But, as soon as they knelt, he laid the little hand from 


102 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


him on the cushion of the chair. Its clasp suggested 
to him vague possibilities of what might have been; 
yet never now could be, in anticipation or truth. 

They rose when the prayer was ended, and looked in 
each other’s faces. 

“ This is the utmost I can do for you, Libby,” he said. 

“ And my duty ? ” she pleaded. 

“ Rests, as it always must, with God and your con- 
science.” He spoke with a tender gravity, having a 
heart full of sympathy and compassion for this wayward 
little soul. 

“ Good-night, and thank you,” she said. 

“ Good-night, and God bless you ! ” 

She put out her hand, which he held in his own for 
one little moment : then she went out from his study, 
carrying with her the sunshine and the beauty, as it 
seemed , of his life. 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 103 


CHAPTER VII. 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 
HAT night Libby settled this doubtful question 



-L with her conscience and her God. It was no 
easy victory that she gained, nor a willing sacrifice that 
she offered. She thought it was like tearing body and 
soul asunder, to offer it at all ; therefore the offering 
was not a very cheerful or open-hearted one. The 
cheerfulness and the peace would come in time : now 
she could only bury her face in the pillows, sob aloud 
that it was very bitter, this cup she had to drink, and 
beg that it might be spared her. 

But, “ neither did she offer to the Lord her God of 
that which cost her nothing.” If he asked this great 
gift of her, she felt, through all her heart, that she 
loved him well enough to give it, and that he would 
help her to bear the emptiness and the longing which 
should follow. Further than this she could not go. 

That was the sabbath ; and W ednesday morning 
John Hildreth’s little company would leave Southcliff 
for the war. It would have been wiser perhaps, and 
better for her peace of mind, if Libby had told her 
whole story simply and at once, in the little note she 
sent Wednesday morning, — if she had told it in such 
a way as to leave no doubt of her meaning, no loop-hole 
of escape for either of them, nor any hope of appeal. 


104 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Instead of this, she followed the guiding of her heart, 
and wrote, — 

“Dear John, — I will walk to the lane at five o’clock 
this evening, and wait for you under the old maple. Do not 
fail to come for only a few moments. There is something I 
must tell you now.” 

After she had sent it by the hands of a kind old 
neighbor who was going down to the village to see the 
drill, and all through the day, while she wandered 
about the house, helping Martha, she listened, half 
unconsciously, for a footstep on the path ; or stepped 
to the window for a moment, hoping he might be passing 
up the road. It would be pleasant to have a smile or 
a kind greeting once again, before she told him the 
dreadful truth. 

Her eyes shone with a strange eagerness; and two 
small red spots burnt in her cheeks all day, until the 
heat pained her, and she laid her face against the win- 
dow-pane to cool it. But down in her heart a dull 
feeling had crept over the pain, or perhaps the coming 
bitterness seemed so great that she failed to realize 
what her life would be when this excitement had 
passed. She saw very dimly the hand of God leading 
her ; and the love of Christ scarcely came home to her 
heart with the old-time comfort even. She only felt 
with a passionate strength, far over every thing, that 
God was leading her through clouds and darkness that 
almost hid his hand, and that she could only follow 
where he led. If he took the sweetness from her now, 
making her Saviour seem like a hard, relentless master, 
yet she believed, — and grasped the hope through all 
her misery, — that after the bitterness his comfort 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 105 

would enter like a balm into her heart, and after the 
tempest his “ still small voice ” would speak. She 
believed too, clinging to the belief and saying it over in 
her heart, that she would be willing to do more hard 
things, and go through still more bitterness, for his dear 
sake. 

It was the spirit of the soldier, after all,- even though 
an unwilling soldier. 

“What ails the girl?” said Martha once, when Libby 
had stopped her broom in the midst of her sweeping, to 
fly to the sitting-room window. 

Her father looked up scornfully from his reading. 

“ It’s the vanity and the evil things of the world 
she’s sworn to renounce,” he said ; “ the pride of the 
eyes which bringeth a snare.” 

“ Yes, father,” said Martha humbly ; “ the world’s 
bad enough.” 

“ Hein ! ” he cried suddenly ; as if her speaking were 
an unprecedented thing. 

“ The child don’t know any better,” said Martha, 
with. unusual leniency. “ She’s flighty enough, nobody 
knows better’n me ; but maybe she’ll get over it.” 

“ I can tell her some things,” he cried, being fresh 
from the study of the old Hebrew prophets. “ 4 Because 
the daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with 
stretched-forth necks, and wanton eyes, walking and 
mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their 
feet, therefore the Lord will smite with a scab the 
crown of the head of the daughter of Zion ; and she 
being desolate, shall sit upon the ground.’ ” 

“ Father, don’t,” cried Libby, turning back after her 
vain search at the window. “ I’m bad enough, God 
knows that ; but God won’t curse me, father.” She 


106 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


spoke very eagerly, while the red spots in her cheeks 
spread to her forehead, and the tears gathered in her 
eyes. 

44 We*re all of us miserable sinners,” said Martha. 

“Ay, in the prayer-book, woman. I’m as good as 
any saint in their calendar, as good as any parson in 
the country. Let ’em disprove it who can. I ain’t 
any of your church-goers ; hut who’ll he church-mem- 
bers, I’ll keep them up to the law. There was a man 
once thought God wouldn't curse him ; and God said, 
4 Thou fool ! ’ ” 

“ And 4 God is love,’ ” said Libby eagerly. 44 God is 
love. Let him work his will ; for God is love. You 
say cruel things, father ; and God has no part in them.” 

Libby did not mean to be unkind or ungentle ; but 
her whole inner self was like some delicate bit of ma- 
chinery which has been jarred or bent ; it moves in a 
strange, erratic way, having no force to move aright, 
though following some motive power within it. 

44 Never mind the child, father,” said Martha quickly. 
44 She’s daft, and out of her head. — Hold your tongue, 
Elizabeth, and let quiet folk alone. — Don’t mind her, 
father.” 

She stepped a little nearer to him, and laid her hand 
on his shoulder ; yet doubtfully, as though she feared 
the result of this half caress. For one happy moment, 
he forebore to push it away ; then suddenly, by a side 
motion in his chair, he freed himself from the unwel- 
come restraint. 

44 Don’t let’s have any sentiment, woman,” he said. 

Martha suppressed a sigh, and went back to the 
kitchen. This was only what she had looked for, what 
she must always look for, until her work was finished, 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 107 

the very last of it, and God gave her leave to rest. 
Perhaps with the resting would come a little love, 
such love, in such small portions, as she should be able 
to hear, having been loveless for so long a time ; just 
as starving persons were sometimes fed with very little 
morsels, and very few at a time, until they had grown 
stronger, and able to digest. A little love would be a 
feast to her. 

And Lizzie, little Lizzie, would grow up to fill a 
place like hers ; becoming an unloved drudge for some 
one else, as she had been for father. This seemed to 
her, woman’s natural lot ; and where was the use in 
struggling against it? But God loved them both; 
and God’s love was best. She felt guilty and ashamed 
to have thought herself starving, when the Saviour had 
loved her well enough to die for her. 

Little Lizzie, meanwhile, had set the dinner-table 
with trembling, mechanical fingers ; and, while Martha 
and her father were eating, she sat and broke a morsel 
of bread in pieces, watching the hands of the time- 
piece creeping slowly, slowly around to five o’clock. 

No one seemed to notice that she went without her 
dinner, and had only eaten a bit of bread for breakfast. 
She hardly knew it herself, except in a blind, unrea- 
soning way, which accepted the facts, without looking 
forward to the consequences. 

Five o’ clock was long in coming, but it came at 
last. Libby slipped out of the front gate without 
being seed, and ran until she had almost reached the 
lane, through her great dread of being called back; 
loitering the last of the way, and looking for all the 
prettiest spots, and the well-known resting-places, 
where they two should never wander together again. 
She herself must sign and seal this verdict. 


108 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


John sat under the maple-tree, and waited for her, 
watching her slow footsteps loiter up the lane. When 
he rose and walked to meet her, she turned her head 
a little aside, and only held out her hand when he 
stood directly before her. 

“ You sent for me, Libby,” he said, gathering her 
tenderly in his arms, notwithstanding all her efforts to 
the contrary. 

“Yes, I did. Please sit down, John, and listen a 
minute; don’t speak to me.” She choked back a sob 
to make her voice a little clearer. “It’s* hard to tell 
you, God knows.” 

“ I’m very comfortable, Libby,” he answered coolly ; 
“ and sitting down is not in keeping for a soldier. 
Tell me now, dear; and, if it’s hard, let’s have it 
over.” 

“But, oh, John!” she cried desperately, putting up 
her hands to push back the hair from her hot little 
face. “ I sent for you now, to take it all back, quite 
back, — what I told you last week, — just as if it had 
never been.” 

“Libby! ” He said nothing else for a moment; but 
the one word held a volume of anger and surprise and 
injured love. He unclasped his arms from around her 
then, and stood with them folded, while he looked 
down in herface. All the pride of his young, strong, 
nature, struggled for mastery with this first great love 
of his life. 

“ Did you mean that, Libby ? ” he asked, looking 
steadily down in her eyes. 

“ Surely, John.” 

“ Every bitter word of it ? ” 

“ Every word,” she answered ; while the great waves 


“IIILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 109 

swelled up in her heart, and made her heart grow faint 
with their violence. 

All was very quiet in the little lane for a moment, 
while they stood there looking in each other’s faces. 
You could hear the insects chirping in the grass, and 
the little birds twittering off in the coppice. 

“And what becomes of the promise you gave me, 
Libby? ” he questioned bitterly. “ What becomes of all 
promises and all love henceforth and forever ? ” 

He was no different from the rest of the world. 
Since his gourds had withered, no gourds would be fit 
for shelter in all time to come. 

“ It’s hard enough, John,” she said, with a convulsive 
clinching of her hands, “ but it is right, it is right — 
and God knows all.” 

“ I see it clearly now,” he cried, with a short, hard 
laugh. “ I’m not so fond of my Bible as his excellency 
the parson, in short, I’m not one of the church ; after 
which you think nothing is too bad for me.” 

“ I think we two are not walking the same road,” 
she answered, “and perhaps you would lead me to 
disobey my Lord.” 

“ Oh ! yes, of course,” he answered fiercely, for the 
shock of her first words had so overpowered him, that 
he seemed to have no heart or tenderness for either 
Libby or himself. “ I should lead you astray, — we will 
call it that, — what then ? Where would lie the differ- 
ence, after all ? Let us suppose Miss Libby Denwitt 
drawn back to the world, even ; would she be any worse, 
I wonder, then than now ? — any less amiable than she 
is to Miss Martha, any more censorious than she was at 
Dorcas meeting, any more ill-tempered than we find 
her sometimes now. Indeed, I think no one would 
suffer from the change.” 


10 


110 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Libby blushed. “ I am not good,” she said : “ I don’t 
pretend to be, John.” 

“No, you are not good,” he continued in the same 
hard tone : “ you are vain and self-willed and capricious, 
even cross at times. Now, where is the difference be- 
tween you and the sinful world, — what potent virtue 
lies in this name of Christian, to outweigh all natural 
virtues ? ” 

Libby looked up suddenly, and he saw the tears 
rising in her eyes. 

“ I thought you loved me, John,” she said. 

The tears and reproach were too much for him, since 
it was because he loved her with his w T hole heart, that 
he felt so passionately angry against this strange, un- 
looked-for fate. 

“ I am not good, John,” she said softly after a mo- 
ment, “ but I rest myself, sin and all, in One who is 
utterly sinless. I trust in him, so his holiness is counted 
for mine.” 

His face softened. 

“ If you are not good, Libby,” he said, bending over 
her, and drawing her up once more in his arms, “ if you 
are not good, you are very, very dear, and — Libby, you 
are miner He spoke between his clinched teeth, and 
sealed his words with passionate kisses. Was not the 
aim of his life henceforth, to do battle and conquer ? 
What was this little weak girl, that she should think to 
resist him ? 

“ Oh ! John, it is very hard,” she said. 

Then the voice of the Tempter spoke through John. 

“ You shall lead me with this little hand wherever 
you please : only try me, Libby.” 

“ Your hand is the strongest,” she answered: “it 
would be always you who led, John.” 


14 HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” Ill 

44 Yon don’t love me, Libby.” 

She gave him no answer, for all denial seemed so 
needless. 

44 You are sending me out adrift on the world, with 
no compass to guide me.” 

She drew her hand from his ; and then, because she 
was faint and weary, and because he willed it so, her 
head dropped on his shoulder. 

44 Libby,” he said, 44 do you care for what becomes of 
me ? I am going from here into a great deal of evil, 
more perhaps than you dream of now ; perhaps into a 
small world of wickedness, set off by itself, with no 
softening presence, or sound of a warning voice. Pitch 
defiles, Libby. There’ll be no restraining thought of 
you beside me.” 

44 Let me go, John,” she whispered. 

44 If I carried your love with me, don’t you see what 
a safeguard it would be ? ” 

44 O John ! ” she sobbed, 44 1 see that nothing is a 
safeguard in all this world, but just the love of my 
Lord — nothing. You must always take my love with 
you wherever you go. I can’t alter that.” 

44 Libby, Libby,” he persisted eagerly, 44 let me take 
the promise too, — let me know that you are mine, in 
life or death. I could never wander far with the 
thought of you watching for me at home.” . 

44 1 cannot keep you safe,” she said. 

44 1 don’t mean,” he added quickly, 44 that I shall 
come to shame because of you: my pride will keep me 
from that, Libby.” 

44 Pride is a poor safeguard,” she answered musingly. 

44 The promise would cost you little,” he urged again. 
44 1 carry my life at the point of the sword. In the 
next list of 4 killed ’ you iliay see my name.” 


112 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


And then, when she only turned pale and was silent, 
he broke forth in passionate bitterness. 

“Libby, Libby, you have made me hate with the bit- 
terest hatred this religion of yours, which costs me so 
dear.” 

And Libby, who longed with all the strength of her 
heart that it should be his religion too, answered under 
her breath, — 

“ I can only pray for you, John.” 

He laughed bitterly. 

“Look at the men, Libby, — these Southcliff boys, 
who go out from Christian homes, — what will they 
become under such a captain as I ? Can you bear to 
have all this laid at your door, and feel that you will 
be judged for it ? ” 

She broke loose from his clasp, and stood at bay con- 
fronting him. 

“ God will not judge me for that,” she said. 

“ Libby, little Libby,” he entreated eagerly, “ don’t 
shut me out from all the light and love you gave me.” 

Then she held out her hands entreatingly. 

“ O John ! you will break my heart,” she cried. “ I 
have no other word to say. Pity me, let me go home.” 

And something in her face — the unyielding misery 
of it — touched him sorely. 

He took both her hands in his for a moment, and 
bent to kiss her twice — for love and parting — that 
was all. 

All the joy, and the bitterest of the misery, were 
over now for Libby. But something remained after, — 
a cup filled to the brim with daily longings that must be 
crushed, a daily thronging of memories to be put down 
and forgotten, of hopes and dear anticipations to be 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 113 

*r 

buried out of sight, a cup to be drained in secret, but 
no less surely drained ; for this victory was not one 
which, once gained, is gained forever. But after it all, 
and amid it all, was left, too, the “ arm of the Lord,” 
able to sustain and strengthen and help. All these 
were left to her. 

That was a dreary evening .after her victory. Libby 
looked back on it afterwards as on a dream, something 
through which she had moved in a vague, unconscious 
way, her eyes half closed, and her senses dulled with 
pain. 

They had supper just as usual, and she helped Mar- 
tha clear the table. Something had gone wrong in the 
daily fare : the milk was turned a little, and the new 
baking of bread rather heavy, and father had conde- 
scended so far as to be cross about them. 

Then, after the dishes were washed, Mrs. Marsey’s 
motherly form loomed up before the open door, with 
her usual hearty greeting; and in a moment or two 
Libby saw her established for the evening, in the easy- 
chair opposite father, where her knitting-needles dew 
like winged creatures, and her tongue like a brace of 
clappers. 

There was this comfort in having a visit from Mrs. 
Marsey, when one was ill-disposed to visitors : it was 
the entire sense of politeness one felt in holding their 
own tongue, and listening to the good old lady, while 
they thought their own thoughts between. Mrs. Mar- 
sey had one inexhaustible topic in these days, — “ the 
boys ” who were going, and “ the boys ” who were gone. 

“ Law now, childie,” — she exclaimed once, turning 
quickly to Libby, who sat half in the shadow, with her 
hands folded listlessly on her knees, — “ what’s come 


114 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. . 


over its dear heart? You ain’t spry and cheery like 
you should be, — What ails her, Miss Marthy ? ’Taint 
hypo nor nothin,’ is it ? ” 

44 She’s well enough,” said Martha dryly : 44 she’s too 
fond of doing nothing, Mrs. Marsey; but it’s only what 
I must expect, I suppose.” 

44 Law now, I want to know ! that ain’t like Lizabeth, 
’pears to me. Dear little soul ! come along here a min- 
ute, honey.” 

Libby remembered long after, how she rose meekly 
like a little child, and walked over to Mrs. Marsey’s 
side, and feeling, child-like, that she was near a friend, 
when she nestled down in the shadow of that lady’s 
capacious form. 

To be sure, there were questions to be answered, — 
Did she sleep well nights ? and, IIow was her appetite ? 
Then, too, her pulse was examined, and her tongue 
displayed, and, as a conclusion, some herb decoction was 
prescribed, which Libby resolved she would never 
touch ; yet she felt the sweet sense of protection, never- 
theless. 

Afterward there followed more discussion of 44 our 
boys,” and more extolling of Capt. John Hildreth, which 
Libby heard with a white face, and her hands in a ner- 
vous tremor. She felt a great throb of relief when the 
hands of the old clock crept round to nine ; for then 
the knitting-work was stowed safely away, and Eli 
Marsey came shuffling up the stoop, to ask for his 44 old 
woman,” and take her home. 

44 Law now, dear heart,” said Mrs. Marsey, turning, 
and taking Libby’s hands, while Martha was speaking 
to her husband, 44 don’t go on and get thin. Sometimes 
old folks’ eyes can see through a mill-stone right sharp. 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 115 

He’s worth a tear or two, John is, — a good boy, a real 
good boy, not far out ’er the kingdom, dear.” 

“ If he only was in it,” said Libby, with something 
like a sob. 

“ If he only war, dear, if he only war,” said Mrs. 
Marsey soothingly. “ I h ain’t nothin’ to say agin that. 
I’d like to see John in the kingdom. There, don’t take 
on, dearie : good-night, good-night.” 

While the door was closing upon her friend, Libby 
crept off to her own room, and there tossed her 
weary head about on her pillows until morning. She 
could not sleep, but after a while came rest which was 
better than sleep. For when she turned her heart to 
her Saviour, seeking strength, the rest and peace which 
“ He giveth his beloved ” stole into her heart ; so that 
John Hildreth and all earthly things seemed a vision 
of the mind, “less than nothing, and vanity,” when set 
beside this greater love which had bled for her, and this 
tender mercy which sheltered and cherished her as a 
mother does her little one. 

The sweet drops mingled with the bitter. Without 
the misery of the last, the joy of the other would never 
have seemed so precious to her taste. 

Wednesday morning came, and very quickly. Before 
Libby was dressed, the drums were beating ; and a little 
later all Southcliff thronged to the depot, to see John 
Hildreth’s company start for the war. All, or nearly 
all, were there, save a few old people too feeble to make 
the effort, and Libby Denwitt. She struggled fiercely 
with her own heart that morning, longing sorely for 
one more look, only a clasp of the hand, or a short fare- 
well, — one more look, when she might never see him 
again ; but her own heart, defeating itself, forbade the 


116 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


indulgence. Amongst so many she would be scarcely 
missed : perhaps no one would know she kept at home, 
not even the one she longed to see. 

So when she saw Martha putting on her shawl and 
bonnet, before the sitting-room glass, she turned wearily 
away, to go to her own room. 

“ Lizabeth,” her sister’s voice called after her. 

Libby turned back on the threshold of the door. 

“ Ain’t you going to see ’em off ? ” 

“No, Martha.” 

“ Well, I declare ! you hain’t got a spark of patriot- 
ism, child. There ain’t much to be done : leave things 
be this morning.” 

“ I’d rather stay at home, Martha.” 

“There’s no moving you anyway. Well, make the 
beds, and dust up the settin’-room, and put some more 
sparrowgus atop the looking-glass. The flies are get- 
ting thick as all nature.” 

“ Yes, Martha.” With a faint sigh, and a most misty 
comprehension of the import of these several orders, 
Libby vanished from Martha’s sight. 

In a moment, however, she came back with a small 
square package in her hand. 

“ Martha,” she said, “ if you get a chance to speak 
to John Hildreth, please give him this.” 

Martha eyed her curiously for a moment, then took 
the package which contained Libby’s own little worn 
Bible, and went on her way. 

All the while the crowd gathered at the depot, while 
tears were being shed, and farewells spoken. Libby 
knelt by her window, and prayed with a full heart, 
but dry eyes, for one among them whom she might 
not see. She only thought of one ; all the others were 


“HILT TO HILT, AND SPEECH TO SPEECH.” 117 

blotted from her memory. John Hildreth was going, 
in a few moments, far beyond her reach or her recall- 
ing, perhaps forever : that was all. When she heard 
the whistle, and knew that all was over, and that he 
was gone, her heart failed her suddenly, her head 
grew very dizzy ; and when Martha came home, and, 
finding the house in the same condition in which she 
had left it, went up to search for her young handmaid, 
she found her fallen on the floor, quite unconscious of 
joy or pain. Meanwhile John Hildreth thought in 
his heart, “ Libby never loved me, or she would not 
have let me go without a word.” 

Libby’s little Bible went back to her own table ; for 
John had been too surrounded and sought after, for 
Martha to have a word with him : and, “ Anyway, she 
hadn’t thought it of much account.” 


118 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


SORELY BESET. 


FTER this, the shadow settled down over Libby’s 



iA heart. It seemed to her the “ valley of the 
shadow of death ” through which she passed in those 
bitter days of the early summer-time. They were 
days of such utter weariness, that one seemed like 
another; and all of a dull leaden huje, like rain-clouds 
in winter. Sometimes she prayed to die, and rest from 
the pain ; for Libby was not an old battle-tried saint, 
or one who could heartily triumph in adversity. She 
wearied sometimes with the pain of her wounds, and 
the ceaseless weight of her armor. 

But even in the “ valley of the shadow” there was 
help and comfort, and a guiding Hand. At times she 
saw this very clearly; but always she knew it to be 
true. She was like some other soldiers, who, after 
gaining great battles, are so beset with wounds, that 
they scarcely know at first whether it is well with 
them or not. Yet after all, being true to their leader, 
they rejoice in the midst of suffering ; and so at last, 
after many struggles, did Libby. 

It was two weeks now, since “ the boys ” had gone ; 
and Southcliff was growing used to the quiet and dul- 
ness, excepting perhaps a few restless spirits like the 
Misses Hildreth. 


SORELY BESET. 


119 


They sat in their little parlor one Wednesday morn- 
i n ch just as they did on all these bright summer days, 
stitching some fancy bits of embroidery, and gossiping 
about their neighbors. “ Aunty,” meanwhile, took her 
early nap in the largest easy-chair. 

“ Well, isn’t this diverting?” said Lu, after a pause. 

“ It’s simple stagnation, my dear ; some people are 
born to stagnate,” her sister rejoined. 

“ Well, I’m certain sure / wasn’t. I’d rather live in 
the backwoods, and make no pretensions to civiliza- 
tion.” Miss Lu tossed back her pretty blonde curls, 
and took a survey of Southcliff from the window, with 
an expression of unlimited disgust. 

Miss Anabel curled her pretty lip, and donned a 
little added dignity. 

“ Don’t be childish, my dear,” she said : “ the back- 
woods may sound well in a novel, but they make a 
poor show in real life, as every one^knows.” 

“ Well, what of it, Nan? Any thing for diversion.” 

“ We might possibly, being ingenious, invent a 
little diversion of our own.” 

“ Diversion ! there’s no one worth speaking to here. 
I’m sick to death of it all, — never was so bored in my 
life.” 

“ Miss Denwitt is a sample of Southcliff politeness,” 
suggested her sister. “ I don’t suppose it ever entered 
her silly little head, that visits should be returned.” 

“ Well, it’s little odds,” said Lu. 

“ I don’t believe John Hildreth ever thought of her 
twice. I wish I had asked him. The little one 
blushed like a popinjay, at the very mention of his 
name.” 

“ Blush ! why, all these country -girls blush if you 


120 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


say ‘boo’ to them, Nan! John! I guess not. He’d 
be a pretty fool, — with all his advantages too. I do 
pity these men though, they’re so easily led astray. 
Let’s stop in some day, and see how she takes it, 
Nan.” 

“Indeed! thank you, my dear. You may, if you 
choose.” 

“ Oh ! honestly, Nan, why not ? I don’t stand on 
ceremony.” 

“ I don’t know what you’d get for your pains, Lu.” 

“ Why, I’d draw her out very delicately — don’t you 
see ? touch very lightly on recent events, and feel my 
way as I went along. I promise you I’d come away 
wiser than I went.” 

“ I don’t think the game is worth the candle,” said 
Miss Anabel with a delicate yawn. 

“Now, Nan, be reasonable! We are as prosy as 
Southcliff itself ; and I never saw such a stupid place 
in my life. One can’t so much as show their new 
dresses here, because there is no one to see. Even 
Ned Hildreth is so taken up with fishing, base-ball, 
and this, that, and the other, that he hasn’t a rational 
word to say.” 

“ Do let the poor boy amuse himself, my dear ; let 
him spend his vacation to suit himself.” 

“ He bids fair to,” said Lu sulkily : “ it’s three 
weeks since he came home, and I’ve seen him four 
times.” 

“ It’s something new under the sun for you to be 
pining after poor little Ned,” said her sister with 
curling lip. 

“Poor little Ned, indeed! he’s a junior, and there’s 
no end of fun and frolic in him when once he is 
started. Heigh-ho ! ” 


SORELY BESET. 


121 


“ I’ve thought of a plan, Lucile.” 

“ What ! a walk to the post-office, or croquet for 
two ? ” 

“ Something immensely better, you fretful child.” 
Anabel placidly threaded her needle with violet floss. 
“Nothing less than a picnic to Halloway Ridge. 
There’s the loveliest lake right in among the moun- 
tains, they say, with plenty of fishing and berrying.” 

“ Hum, I don’t like to pick berries,” said Lu 
doubtfully, tracing a figure on the carpet with the tip 
of her boot. 

“ Then sit still, and watch other people pick them.” 

“A picnic without gentlemen!” continued the 
younger sister scornfully. “Nothing but girls, and 
girls, and girls! I won’t go to any picnic where I 
have to carry my own shawl.” 

“ Oh ! there’s always the minister, you know, my 
dear, and Ned Hildreth, at your service,” with a little 
mocking smile, “ besides a score of elderly gallants, who 
might carry baskets and shawls for the party.” 

Lu raised her eyebrows, and considered the question 
a moment, with her foot poised in the midst of her 
pattern. 

“ I don’t care much about it,” she said at last. 

“We would ask Libby Denwitt, of course ” — 

“ Til do that, you know, Nan.” 

“ And we could have a few people up from the city.” 

“ Oh, yes, oh, yes ! ” Lu clapped her hands softly. 
“ Are the fates propitious, Nan ? ” with a glance at the 
sofa. “ They snore just now, but they may dissent 
after a little.” 

“ We’ll make them propitious, my dear. Let’s have 
it Saturday ; that is the best day for the ‘ lords of crea- 
n 


122 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


tion.’ This afternoon you can see Libby Denwitt, that 
Telfair girl, and maybe the Douglass ; the rest of them 
are decidedly flat, and it is well enough to leave them 
out, unless — let me see — I suppose the whole village 
might be invited, for the sake of good-will. In the 
mean time, I’ll scribble off some notes (it’s a deal the 
hardest part) ; and lastly, all being done, we’ll tell Aunt 
Bell about it.” 

Lu clapped her hands softly, and left tracing figures 
on the carpet. Then, since the morning was fair, and 
nothing in the world appeared to prevent, she donned 
her little fancy hat and her lace pelisse, and started 
forth on her friendly errands. She had no ill feelings 
at her heart against any one : she really hoped every 
one would have a pleasant time, and come home charmed 
with the picnic, so long as they could do so without 
interfering with her own enjoyment ; but most of all 
she hoped that in some way she could peep into Libby 
Denwitt’s heart, and find out the true cause of those 
remarkable blushes. 

Thus it came to pass, that Libby, in the act of setting 
the dinner-table, was surprised by a call from Miss Lu 
Hildreth ; and, in truth, it was not at all a pleasant 
surprise. 

Libby had suffered very much in the past two weeks, 
more than any one, from seeing her, would have fancied. 
Such a few days had never before seemed so long to her, 
so void of any earthly hope to brighten the edges of her 
clouds. They had each dragged by, as though she 
counted the hours. Every duty at first was a burden, 
and every word which she must speak a pain to her. It 
was only little by little, day by day, that she learned 
from her patient Teacher how every cross could be 


SORELY BESET. 


123 


lightened through his love, every little burden borne 
for him, who bore greater burdens for her, and how he 
would take even “ little words of kindness,” which it 
was so hard to speak, and call them gifts to himself. 

But sometimes the pain came back with a strange 
newness, and the lessons seemed all unlearned. Grief 
would not heal in a day. 

It would have been hitter enough to talk to any one 
on this morning which Miss Hildreth chose for her call ; 
even commonplace words to Martha came feebly enough : 
but to sit in the parlor by that lively Miss Hildreth, to 
listen to gossip for an hour or more, to smile and ques- 
tion as though she were pleased, — this was a harder 
task by far. Should she do it? Could she, indeed? 
Could she hear John’s going discussed as a thing in 
which she had no interest, and have to answer calmly ; 
or perhaps to have sly hints thrown out about her own 
acquaintance with him, and look as she would if he had 
been a friend, nothing more ? She could not bear it. 
Where was the need of bearing it ? She might send 
word to Miss Lu that she was very busy, or not quite 
well, which was perfectly true, or eyen refuse outright 
to see her : what did she care ? 

For a moment, while Martha waited in the doorway, 
Libby stood irresolute, holding the pile of plates in her 
hand ; then she whispered inaudibly, “ Dear Lord, help 
me. What work can I have in all this world but to 
obey thee, and do thy will ? ” 

“ Well, Lizabeth, put down them plates, and take off 
your apron ; I s’pose I’ll have to finish myself,” said 
Martha dolefully. 

“ There’s not much more to do, Mart : I won’t be 
long.” 


124 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ 4 Not much more ! ’ ” echoed Martha scornfully. 
44 Only pretty near the hull. Leave be, and go talk to 
your flashy company.” 

44 I’m in no hurry about it, Martha : do leave things 
alone,” said Libby. 

But she spoke to no purpose ; for Martha was already 
mistress of the field, and, with her face drawn into the 
wryest contortions, waved Libby off to the parlor. 
This done, and her little sister fairly out of sight, she 
heaved a weary sigh on her own account. Her medita- 
tions had been more than usually of Libby lately ; for, 
little as she seemed to love this younger sister, in good 
truth her heart clung to her more closely than any one 
would have fancied possible. Even when she was hard- 
est and most severe, she would mark the least paleness 
on Libby’s soft cheek, or the least drooping of her elastic 
form. She would never’ admit a thought of this to 
strangers. Libby was always well, as a matter of 
course : if she seemed languid, that was from indolence ; 
or tired, it came from taking too long walks. At best, 
a little paleness was only the token of a cold she had 
taken through some imprudence of her own, for which 
Martha could not be responsible. 

But she was severe rather from a sense of duty, than 
from any desire to be unkind. She had been used to 
hardness in her own up-bringing ; in fact, she had been 
used to it all her life, and this had made her the tough, 
hard woman that she was, with strength to put her neck 
to the yoke, and suffer without a sign. Severity seemed 
to her the normal way for treating these young girls. 
She never put it into words, that it would be well for 
Libby to be tough as herself, that she, too, might learn to 
bear heavy burdens with a stolid hopelessness of this 


SORELY BESET. 


125 


world’s comfort : yet, after the things of the Kingdom, 
such toughness seemed to her the thing most to he 
desired in this hard, unequal world. 

Such a result may seem of all things opposed to the 
tender laws and the loving precepts of that kingdom 
for which she longed ; hut Martha was a little child as 
yet in spiritual things, only able to digest the veriest 
“ milk of the word,” and, like the most of her class, a 
mere stammerer in the lore of love. She was so used 
to bearing her own burdens, that it seldom occurred to 
her how much better it would be to cast them on the 
Lord, and go on her way with a light heart, taking only 
what crosses he saw fit to send her, and being solaced 
even in the bearing of them. 

She was fitting one to herself this morning, — trouble 
on Libby’s account. 

“ Something ails her, I’m certain,” she said to herself. 
“ She hasn’t eat enough to keep a mouse alive, this 
fortnight back. If it wasn’t for the sun being so hot, 
.I’d go up to Marshall’s lots, and see if there ain’t any 
wild strawberries, to coax her appetite a little. I 
believe I’ll go anyhow. She’ll be pining and droppin’ 
off, one of these days, before anybody knows she’s 
sick.” 

Martha had Libby’s young mother in her mind, this 
morning. 

The hard, wry-faced woman tied on her big sun-bon- 
net, pulled down her sleeves, and, while Libby still 
talked to Lu Hildreth, she set off with her little tin 
pail, for Marshall’s lots. It would have been fine sport 
for a party of children, to go strawberrying that hot 
June morning ; it would have been a pleasant undertak- 
ing, perhaps, for Libby herself : but, with Martha’s stiff 
11* 


126 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


rheumatic joints, the long sunny walk up hill and 
down, over rocks and sandy places, and through the 
dusty roads, seemed no small item in the labors of the 
day. 

Miss Hildreth, at the sound of the gate-latch, peeped 
through the darkened blind. 

“ Ah,” she said lightly, “ I thought maybe it was 
Nan. Somebody with a sun-bonnet and tin pail. Your 
cook, I guess, or maid-of-all-work : which is it ? Dear, 
how hot the sun is ! ” 

“ We have no cook,” said Libby, flushing hotly, “and 
no maid of any kind, Miss Hildreth. I think it must 
have been my sister.” 

“ Ah, indeed,” said Miss Lu, with a complacent little 
smile. “ And that brings me to the point ; for I mustn’t 
stay another moment. Nan and I are going to get up 
a picnic to Halloway Ridge, for Saturday. I suppose 
we’ll have three or four wagons full, enough to keep it 
from being a bore, you know. There’ll be some friends 
from the city, besides a good many Southcliff people. 
I think we’ll have a particularly jolly time. Of 
course you will have to come, Miss Libby ; and I am 
here principally to secure your services.” 

For a moment Libby looked quite hurt and offended, 
— this Miss Hildreth had given her such a serious 
shock, in asking her to lift up her poor little head, and 
show it to the world again. 

“ Oh ! I couldn’t possibly go ; thank you,” she said, 
with a little shiver. 

“ Not go ! ” Miss Lu opened her innocent blue eyes 
to their widest extent. “ I’m sure we thought every 
one would be delighted. What a . hapless beginning ! 
Dear Miss Libby, is there any thing under the sun you 


SORELY BESET. 127 

could suggest to make it pleasanter? We should be 
overjoyed to receive any stray hints or suggestions.” 

“ Oh ! it is not that,” faltered Libby. “ I’m sure it 
will be very nice. But I don’t like large companies ; 
and I wish you would excuse me.” 

“ Now, is it possible ! ” cried Miss Lu, with a slightly 
mocking smile. “ We have always heard of Miss Libby 
Denwitt, as being positively the life of the Dorcas 
Society, or any other large gathering which was on the 
tapis in Southcliff. Confess, now, what 4 change has 
come over the spirit of your dream,’ this past few 
weeks ? ” 

Libby was silent a moment, and passed her hand 
across her forehead. 

“ In the first place, if you were told that, your in- 
formers have made a great mistake,” she said. 

Miss Lu shrugged her shoulders, and looked quizzi- 
cally at Libby. 

“ Oh ! cela va sans dire : all that passes for proper 
modesty, you know. But I hope you won’t insist that 
the informers, as well as myself, have been maliciously 
lying ; for one of them , at least, you and I would not 
care to malign.” 

“ I accuse no one of lying, Miss Lu,” Libby made 
answer, a little stiffly. 

“ Pardon me. Well, in the second place, you will 
confess, won’t you, that some little change has come 
over you ? Because, at any rate, every one will believe 
it, if you insist upon staying away from our famous old 
picnic. Every one will be asking about you ; and we 
shall have to dish up a story out of the best materials 
we have on hand.” 

“ Miss Hildreth,” said Libby warmly, “ I beg you 


128 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


will let the matter rest. If any one should be so foolish 
as to ask for me, it is enough to tell them what I have 
told you.” 

“ Which was, let me see, oh, yes ! you dislike social 
gatherings, and choose to stay at home. Now, really, 
what a little ascetic you are growing, Miss Libby ! How 
the good people will open their eyes when I tell them ! 
Confess now, honor bright, — for I’ll be very merciful : 
hasn’t all this seclusion something to do with what 
happened two weeks ago ? I’m very impertinent, I 
know : you may shake me, if you like ; but you see, 
I put this and that together, and circumstances are most 
suspicious sometimes.” 

Libby blushed, and looked not only very much an- 
noyed, but a great deal too much offended. 

“ There, you are dreadfully vexed ; whatever will 
become of me ? But, you see, you weren’t at the station 
that morning, and John looked crosser than two bears. 
Dear me ! if you don’t go to the picnic, every one else 
will be putting this and that together too.” 

“ With your help,” thought Libby, but kept a dis- 
creet silence. 

“ Come now, show how forgiving you can be, and say 
you will go.” 

And Libby, sore and angry as she was, at last con- 
sented, partly from the dread of what, with the help of 
Miss Lu, those many tongues might invent concerning 
herself. 

“ It’s a hard-won battle,” said her visitor, rising to 
go ; “ but I think you’re sure now, and I feel excessively 
set up in my own opinion. Indeed,” and she added 
slyly, bending forward, and whispering in Libby’s ear, 
“ you needn’t wear willow yet, Miss Libby ; for Aunt 


SORELY BESET. 


129 


Anna had a letter last night, and he’s hale and hearty 
as ever, only lamenting that there’s no prospect of a 
battle.” 

“ I am not expected to understand enigmas, Miss 
Lucile,” said Libby, flushing to the roots of her hair ; 
“ but I suppose we both understand what you mean. I 
don’t want to be unfriendly, I am sure ; but I will 
take it as 'a great kindness, if you will never again 
associate John Hildreth’s name with mine.” 

Miss Lu opened her eyes very wide, and made a 
graceful, chilling little bow. 

“ Yours might be associated with a worse name 
surely,” she said : “ however, let it pass. I bid you 
good-day, Miss Denwitt. We will call for you Saturday 
morning.” 

He was safe, then — not in battle, or likely to be. 
She was glad of that. 

Martha had a successful search after strawberries; 
and if she came home with a lame back, and sunburnt 
face, Libby was never the wiser. Martha helped her to 
the berries, as a matter of course ; and at first Libby 
took them in the same spirit, because her mind was full 
of other things. It was only after her own share had 
vanished, that she noticed Martha’s empty plate. 

But first she had been put through a course of ques- 
tioning which she found far from agreeable. 

“What makes you eat so little lately, Lizabeth?” 
from Martha. 

u Why Martha, what is it ? ” she answered : “ don’t 
I eat enough ? ” 

“Well,” said Martha dryly, “a couple of mouthfuls 
of bread ain’t much of a breakfast, to my way of think- 
in’ ; and half a potato and one plate of berries wouldn’t 
suit me for a dinner.” 


130 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Libby looked a little confused. 

“ I eat enough,” she said : “ I don’t go hungry, 
Martha.” 

Martha mused, while she ate her own quarter of 
apple-pie. 

“ Liz’beth,” she said suddenly, “ wasn’t there some- 
thing between you and John Hildreth, before he went 
away ? ” 

“ Such as what ? ” asked Libby with a little tremu- 
lous excitement. 

“ Something more’n common, I mean, of course,” her. 
sister rejoined. 

“ Do speak plainly, if you must speak at all, Martha,” 
said Libby crossly. “ I hope there was a friendly feel- 
ing between us certainly.” 

“ That’s always been the way with you, Lizabeth : 
you never would bear a word. For my part, I never 
thought much of John, nor father neither.” 

“ A graceless cumberer of the ground,” said “ father ” 
vehemently. 

“ He was too thick with them Hildreth girls ; and I 
always did hold out, it wouldn’t do him any good to go 
to college,” said Martha. 

Libby sat biting her lips, to keep back the tears. 
“ He is good and true,” she said at last ; “ and, Martha, 
I never heard him speak ill of a friend.” 

“Elizabeth,” said her father, turning sharply upon 
her, “have you plighted yourself to that worthless 
scamp ? Then abide by it. I don’t want you here.” 

“ Haven’t you a tongue ? ” asked Martha, as Libby 
held her peace. 

“ I am plighted to no one, father,” she answered, see- 
ing his eyes still fastened upon her in anger and threat- 
ening. “ You must let me stay a little.” 


SORELY BESET. 


131 


There was an ominous silence of two or three 
moments : then the old man rose from the table, and 
walked away. Martha waited until he was beyond 
hearing, to knit up the broken threads of the story. 

“ Now, there’s the parson,” she said, “ as likely a man 
as ever trod shoe-leather. I ain’t for match-making: 
I never did believe in matches any way ; but, if girls 
will be fools, they’d better take the best ; and it’s my 
mind he feels kindly toward you, Lizabeth.” 

“ So you want me to trap the poor man, eh, Martha ? 
thank you,” said Libby, and while she spoke she noticed 
Martha’s empty plate. “ Why, Mart, how stupid I 
was,” she cried: “you didn’t have a berry ; and I made 
my dinner off them. Don’t you like berries ? ” 

“Well enough,” said Martha dryly. “I like some 
things better.” 

“ You’re a dear old saint,” cried Libby, rising sud- 
denly, and wrapping Martha in a fervent embrace. “ I 
wish you’d love me, for, oh ! I do want to be loved.” 

Martha started as she recognized the cry of her own 
heart, which had been going up for years ; unanswered, 
it had seemed sometimes, yet answered always. 

“ Poor little Lizzie,” she murmured ; and, for the first 
time in many a long day, she drew Libby to her heart, 
and kissed her. 


132 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER IX. 

HALLOWAY RIDGE. 

~TTTHEN Libby announced tlie object of Miss Hil- 
VV dreth’s visit, and her own promise to go to 
Halloway Ridge with the others on Saturday, Mar- 
tha was really very well pleased. Under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, she would have called it mere levity and 
childishness in Libby, to care for such things ; but, since 
she had become troubled about her sister’s paleness and 
want of appetite, she was willing to seize upon any 
thing that promised to divert her, and lead her back 
to a more cheerful frame of mind. Of course, she 
considered this as a diversion for Libby, even though 
“ the child ” had looked very sober when she spoke of 
going, and seemed in no way elated by the prospect. 
It was only Libby’s “ way,” thought Martha ; and with- 
out a doubt she must be greatly delighted in her own 
mind. 

“ Without a doubt ” Libby was very glad, when Sat- 
urday morning came, to see a heavy veil of mist hanging 
over the garden, and a bank of dark clouds in the west ; 
and she was no less sorry just at breakfast-time, when 
the clouds chased each other off to the eastward, and 
the sun, shining down through the mist, dissolved it 
into a veil of brightness. 

She cared so little about the pleasure of the day, 


HALLOWAY RIDGE. 


183 


that she wore submissively the dress which Martha 
bade her, even though it seemed to her mind far too 
light for rambling in the woods, even on this warm day 
in June. However, she knew beyond a doubt that 
there would be other dresses worn to Halloway Ridge 
far more unsuitable than a blue figured muslin. She 
looked very sweetly in it too, thought Martha, with a 
slight tinge of pink in her pale cheeks which always 
came with excitement: by and by she would laugh, 
and forget herself, and come home happy again ; if she 
only might ! sighed Martha. She had not known, until 
she missed it, what a comfort there was in Libby’s care- 
less merriment. 

And Libby, as the wagon with its laughing load drove 
up at the front gate, wrapped her light shawl around 
her, and then knelt to pray that God would lead her 
every step of the journey, which seemed so hard in 
prospect; would help her to smile, and make others 
happy, even if she were not happy herself, and would 
let her remember at all times that she was her Saviour’s 
only, vowed to do his bidding. 

Perhaps as the effect of the prayer, or as an answer 
to it, Libby smiled them a very pretty welcome, as she 
walked down to the gate, and bowed in her old happy 
way, as they introduced her to one and another. 

“ Thank you all for coming,” she said, as a strange 
gentleman dismounted to help her up. 

Upon which he answered politely, — 

“ We are sure that the act brings its own reward, 
Miss Denwitt.” 

“ Here ! make room for Miss Libby on the middle 
seat, children,” cried Miss Hildreth, with the air of a 
chief directress. “ Mr. Covermore, be careful of her 
dress : the wheels are shockingly muddy.” 


134 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Mr. Covermore had little trouble ; for with one deft 
spring, and the help of his hand, Libby was seated 
beside Clem Douglass, in the light country wagon. . 

“ I am so glad you came,” cried Clem exuberantly. 
“ I haven’t seen you since nobody knows when ; and 
you looked so sober in church last Sunday, it gave me 
the quakes to see you.” 

“ My dear, more than one looked sober, I. can assure 
you,” said a low, ladylike voice from the back seat. 

Libby turned her head on an irresistible impulse, 
knowing quite well who had spoken, yet wanting the evi- 
dence of her eyesight. 

“ Ah, Miss Libby ! you are surprised to see me here,” 
said Mrs. Hildreth smiling ; “ we matronly ladies like 
to grow young again once in a while, and play being 
children. Besides, Ned and these girls wouldn’t have 
let me off, on any account.” 

“ Oh ! we couldn't possibly have done without Aunt 
Anna,” echoed Miss Lu. 

“ Are you fond of picnics, Miss Denwitt ? ” Mr. 
Covermore asked her. 

She turned quickly towards him. 

“ I believe I used to be,” she said, thinking of the 
dear old days that were gone ; “ but I don’t think we 
had one genuine picnic all last summer, so I can hardly 
answer for myself now.” 

“ Does it take only so short a time to efface a thing 
from your memory ? ” he asked. 

“ Some things,” she answered, with what was trying 
to be a happy smile : “ other things bide their time, and 
some things will never go for the bidding.” 

“ Such as what ? ” he questioned curiously. 

“ Such as whippings she had in school, and coastings, 
and old flirtations,” answered Clem promptly. 


HALLOWAY RIDGE. 


135 


Mr. Covermore bit bis lip, and Libby laughed softly. 

“ I meant nothing very particularly,” she answered ; 
“ only, if one has been very glad or very miserable, the 
memory stays a great while. I do remember, sir, that I 
used to think picnics a very great luxury and delight ; 
but we had very simple, sociable, unpolished picnics, 
where every one pleased himself.” 

44 And herself” put in Clem roguishly. 

44 And so I don’t know about picnics in general,” 
Libby rejoined. 

44 1 think in general they are a bore,” he answered, in 
a tone that never went beyond the middle seat ; 44 but 
I think the 4 simple, sociable, unpolished ’ picnic, where 
every one pleases himself, and is under no necessity of 
stuffing or being proper, must be one of the most en- 
joyable things in the world. The next time you have 
one of those in Southcliff, Miss Denwitt, 4 may I be 
there to see.’ ” 

Libby smiled wistfully. 44 1 don’t believe we shall 
ever have one again,” she said ; 44 we have lost all our 
picnic arrangers.” 

44 What a patriotic little place Southcliff must be ! ” 
he remarked carelessly. 

44 Very,” said Clem : 44 we girls have thought of going 
too. But perhaps you will find this picnic so very 
agreeable, that you won’t want to try another sort, Mr. 
Covermore,” she suggested. 

44 Perhaps,” he answered, smiling ; 44 it has been begun 
under most pleasant auspices.” 

Whatever the picnic might prove, these 44 pleasant 
auspices ” were not to continue for Mr. Covermore, after 
his arrival at Hallo way Ridge. The wagons all arrived 
about the same time, when there was a general alight- 


136 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


ing, tying of horses, gathering of shawls, baskets, and 
stray parasols, and a turning toward the lake. Then 
every one began talking at once ; nearly every one, by 
either accident or design, lost his or her companion 
of the drive ; and the thirty or forty guests were soon 
scattered in bright little knots all over the Ridge. 

In all the other picnics of her remembrance, Libby 
had been a guiding spirit, — the first to say what she 
would do herself, and to assign work to all the rest. No 
one thought of disputing her claim to rule ; her delicate 
taste, and tact for managing, were too apparent for that ; 
for “ Libby Denwitt always had a knack for managing 
things,” and no one could take her rule amiss, because 
of the graceful, winsome way in which it was adminis- 
tered. 

She felt aimless and astray at this great Hildreth pic- 
nic, having no claim upon any one, and only a bit of 
crochet-work to keep her fingers busy. 

She followed the others to a little rising ground, 
closely bordered by oak and chestnut trees, between 
which, and only a few yards away, you could see the 
lake gleaming and rippling, now in sun and now in 
shadow, between its green, uneven banks. It was quite 
overhung by alders and willows and elder-bushes, that 
dropped their white flowers into the water : yet it was 
blue as the sky itself, except for one or two fleecy clouds 
that the sky gave back to it. 

“ It’s the loveliest place I’ve seen for this 1 seven long 
years and a day,’ ” said some one rapturously. 

“ Let us rest here a while and enjoy it, before we 
think of a place to spread the table,” Mrs. Hildreth 
proposed. 

Probably the lady’s suggestion was followed out to 


HALLOW AY RIDGE. 


137 


her liking, for some two dozen or more of the roving 
party threw themselves down in the little clearing, on 
shawls and wagon-cushions ; some of them drawing out 
stray volumes from unsuspected corners, and falling to 
devour them, as though they could see lakes and green- 
ness every day of their lives, while this acre offered the 
only chance they should ever find for improving their 
understandings. 

The others, not being tired or literary, wandered away 
aimlessly in this direction or that, by twos and threes 
and fours, as it suited them best. 

At first Libby seated herself near the literary party, 
intent on watching the lake, and only anxious to be a 
little nearer to it ; but presently Mrs. Hildreth, with- 
drawing herself from the others, came over to Libby’s 
side, and tapped her playfully on the shoulder with a 
great feather fan. 

“ My dear,” she said, “how is this? You are quite 
alone. Don’t you feel sociable this morning? One 
should always try to exert themselves for the common 
good, you know.” 

“ I am afraid I have very little general charity to-day, 
Mrs. Hildreth,” Libby replied meekly. 

“ Not quite -consistent in all your conduct. Is it so, 
my dear? You should be, you know. At least, I 
don’t know much about it ; but I suppose it is so. Did 
you find your conscience agreed with my suggestions 
the other day, Miss Libby?” 

Libby’s whole soul rose in revolt, and the quick flush 
came to her cheek ; for it seemed a very cruel thing to 
her, that this woman should steal her treasure, and 
then come, in such a cool, provoking way, to taunt her 
with the loss of it. 

12 * 


138 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Mrs. Hildreth,” she said coldly, turning her head 
away, “ I think you and I have had enough speech on 
this question.” 

“ Oh, very well ! certainly,” Mrs. Hildreth replied. 
“ Just as you please, Miss Libby. Of course, I can get 
all needed information from John himself.” 

At this there came over Libby’s heart a great sense 
of shame and sorrow. How was this, and what had 
she been doing? Having given up all else for her 
Saviour, should she, after all, slight and grieve him 
needlessly like this ? Must she suffer all the pain of 
her great sacrifice, and, with it all, the grief of a heart 
estranged from him ? 

Turning quickly about, she spoke again, and this 
time very gently, to the lady. 

“ I beg your pardon,” she said. “ You were quite 
right ; and I think my Lord helped me to do his will, 
Mrs. Hildreth.” 

“ That is quite enough,” said the lady, smiling and 
waving her hand. “ I can understand it all, without 
knowing the ways and means. I suppose I need not 
ask you if the task was a hard one.” 

“ I don’t think you need, Mrs. Hildreth,” she an- 
swered, flushing to her temples. 

“ Ah, well ! You are a very good child, my dear,” 
said the lady in conclusion, as she turned again to the 
literary party. 

A moment after, Libby put away her crochet-work, 
caught up her shawl, and wandered off unobserved by 
the others. Nothing about Halloway Ridge could fail 
to interest her. The grand old trees were a study in 
themselves, — so very old that names which had been 
carved on their trunks in other days were almost 


HALLOWAY RIDGE. 


139 


effaced by time ; and with such dense high foliage that 
in some places one could scarcely see the blue of the 
sky between. Oaks, maples, and chestnuts blended in 
one confused mass of verdure, far up in mid-air, with 
only here and there a clearing of a few square yards 
beneath, where the grass grew greener, and the flowers 
revelled in the sunshine. Here Libby trod a soft 
natural carpet, strewn with last year’s acorns and chest- 
nut-burs ; and once, right in the midst of it, she came 
upon a small noisy brook, which dashed and broke and 
shivered over a bed of polished stones, on its way to the 
larger sheet of water yonder. 

It was the time for the late spring and the earliest 
summer flowers, so that the woods were gay and fra- 
grant with them. It was the time, too, for the summer 
birds ; and while Libby threw herself under a chestnut- 
tree, to listen to a little robin, who was almost splitting 
his throat on one of its branches, she began to twine 
the ribbon of her hat with some of the flowers she had 
gathered, — red lobelia and locust and elder, and a few 
little sprays of wood-anemone. She was not doing it 
for the sake of vanity, or because she fancied her dainty 
arranging would win any praise for her deft little fin- 
gers ; but simply on account of old times, and because 
her heart felt sore that she had no one to gather the 
flowers for her, or who would care to see them in her 
hair. 

Suddenly she heard a footstep crushing the chestnut- 
burs ; and Ned Hildreth, who had been trying his luck 
upon the lake, came up with his fishing-tackle and 
empty basket, and seated himself on the ground, not 
two yards from Libby, but quite unobservant of her 
presence. First he pushed off his brown straw hat, 


140 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


and drawing out a suspiciously muddy handkerchief, 
with a bit of an angleworm still clinging to one corner, 
he began wiping the perspiration from his forehead, and 
fanning himself vigorously with the discarded hat. 

Libby looked up from her flowers, shuddered at the 
handkerchief, then smiled to herself. 

Mr. Hildreth was a fine-looking fellow, handsomer 
than John to any but partial eyes ; yet one who looked 
deeper than a mere casual observer, and with a more 
discerning eye, would miss something of the manliness 
and power in Ned’s face, that made the beauty of his 
elder brother’s. 

It had been dull work fishing for an hour with no 
success, and it would be duller yet to go back to the 
company and tell them of it. Ned took up his fishing- 
tackle once more, and examined it ruefully, while he 
sighed in a doleful way, which but half expressed his 
feelings. He had not seemed to notice Libby : perhaps 
even if he should he would not remember her ; and 
not caring to be noticed or remarked in any way, above 
all by this brother of John, she was rising cautiously 
with intent to return, and offer her help in setting the 
table, when Ned looking up suddenly caught her eye, 
and sprang to his feet at once. 

“ Why, I declare, it’s Libby Denwitt ! ” he cried with 
a measure of delight in his voice that forced Libby to 
turn, and offer her hand. 

“ Dear me ! I haven’t- seen you for two years, Libby : 
not since that winter we had the famous coasting on 
the cliff. What an indefatigable old coaster you were, 
little Lib ! do you ever try it now ? ” Ned laughed 
merrily at the recollection. 

“ Oh, yes! I coasted a little last winter: you know we 
had some very heavy snow-storms, Ned.” 


HALLOWAY MDGE. 


141 


“ And you never got fagged out like the other girls. 
Why, Libby, I’ve been looking high and low for you all 
up and down the village ever since I came back.” 

“ Everywhere except at home, where you might have 
found me,” she answered, smiling. 

The grasp of Ned’s hand was so hearty, and his eyes 
so bright and friendly; above all, it was so good to 
meet an old comrade, — that Libby was fain to be seated 
again. 

“ The fact is, Libby — I beg a thousand pardons too,” 
said Ned, 44 but I always was a little afraid of the old 
gentleman. John never seemed to mind. I think I 
would have plucked up courage myself, if I had been 
certain of finding you without running the gauntlet.” 

Libby looked grave, having nothing to say. She 
could not find it in truth to answer, 44 Why, Ned, you 
needn’t be afraid of father: he would be glad to see 
you ; ” for she knew her father would never be glad to 
see any one under the sun, and Ned was too frank with 
her for her to be vexed with him. 

44 There, Libby,” he said, 44 I’m afraid you’d like to 
wring my neck, but what can a fellow say ? ” 

44 1 think a fellow might have made a trial,” she 
answered, 44 and possibly he would not have been so 
frightened as one might suppose : some people find the 
courage to come and see me. Didn’t you know I was 
with the picnic party to-day ? ” 

“Not a bit of it; but how you have grown,” he cried; 
44 tall and slender and graceful as an elm, and so — why, 
Libby, you are just as — might I say it, I wonder?” 

Libby laughed in sympathy with the fun in his eyes. 

44 Any way, I am very glad to see you, Ned,” she con- 
cluded gently. 


142 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Thank you for that, it’s a grand thing to hear some- 
times. I’ve been home three weeks now, and I’ve 
heard the same thing somewhere about fifty times, but 
it has never sounded quite so jolly yet as when I heard 
you say it. You and I are old friends, Libby.” 

44 To be sure we are, Ned.” 

44 You are the same old sixpence too,” he cried, spy- 
ing the wreath of flowers about her hat. 44 Don’t I 
remember how you used to trim hats for the whole 
party of us when we had those grand good picnics in 
the old times? These Hildreth girls don't know how 
to get up any thing sociable: it doesn’t run in the 
family ; blood’s too blue, you know, and all that.” 

44 But you have the very identical blood yourself, 
Ned,” she answered, laughing. 

44 That’s not quite to the point either : blue blood runs 
to red for want of careful culture. If you should take 
one of those famous hot-house plants, and put it out in 
a field with the daisies, it wouldn’t be select or aristo- 
cratic very long : all the old tendencies would develop, 
you see ; and I strongly suspect it would grow as vulgar 
as the veriest little weed about. I’m something of that 
sort myself, being turned loose, you know, and having 
a kindly feeling for canaille .” 

He looked in Libby’s face as though trying to dis- 
cover what she thought of these strange sentiments. 

44 1 don’t care a rush for hot-house flowers, Libby. 
I’d rather pick daisies, and be sure of not scratching 
my hands.” 

44 1 like roses,” she answered. 

44 Best?” 

44 1 like best the flowers, and the people too, that are 
refined and cultured ; but I wouldn’t like one flower to 


HALLOWAY RIDGE. 


143 


set its pretty head above another because it has a finer 
and longer name, with a little more Latin in it. Would 
you ? ” 

“ What are you going to do, Libby ? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ Would you mind, that is, wouldn’t you like to take 
a little row on the lake, while we get to be good friends 
again ? ” 

There was something in the frank gladness of his 
voice that drew Libby along irresistibly, that won her 
away from herself and her own weary thoughts. He 
at least, this careless college boy, would not be prying 
into her heart with eager eyes, as she felt assured every 
one else would do: he would simply take her as he 
found her, and doubtless find her as pleasant as he used 
in the good old times. At least, it should not be her 
fault if John’s brother were disappointed in becoming 
friends with her. 

“ I shouldn’t mind any thing, Ned,” she answered 
brightly. “ That is to say, I should like any thing 
pleasant and cool.” 

“ I fell upon a little cabin about a quarter of a mile 
further up the lake, with a rough old customer hanging 
about it, who had a boat to let. It’s a rickety old 
affair ; but it’s waterproof, for I tried it. Will you walk 
so far and venture ? ” 

“ Certainly ; I am not afraid of the walk, nor the 
venture, Ned.” 

Quite satisfied with this decision, he gathered up 
Libby’s shawl on his arm ; and, taking his own basket 
and tackle in one hand, held out the other to her in an 
easy, off-hand way, as though it were the most natural 
thing in the world that they two should be children 


144 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


again, and walk through the woods together, hand in 
hand. Quite as frankly Libby held out her own, feel- 
ing, indeed, very like the little Libby Denwitt of years 
ago, as she walked along, swinging her hat by the 
strings, and forgetting that this was not in truth one of 
the old-time picnics. 

The ground became very rough toward the edge of 
the lake, broken and wet, and scattered over with stones. 
Indeed, .quite a little precipice overhung the shore. 
Libby often caught her feet slipping, and hardly saved 
herself from falling. Down close by the water ran a 
smooth, sandy path, sometimes a foot wide, sometimes 
two, with here and there little tufts of moss among the 
pebbles, and the shallow water breaking over it in dainty 
ripples. Libby had a mind to be there, and Libby’s 
will was the law of this little enterprise. 

“ Take care,” Ned would say; “it’s a horribly break- 
neck road ; never meant for any thing human, Libby. 
There, don’t slip, or I’ll disown myself. Oh, Lib ! you 
were almost done for, that time.” 

“ But the stones roll so,” said Libby, laughing, and 
flushed with exercise. 

“ That's their prerogative too ; only they must bear 
the penalty, — no moss.” 

As he spoke, they reached the smooth little strip of 
land ; and Libby, slipping a trifle too far, planted one 
of her trim little feet quite over the shoe-buttons in 
water. 

“ Dear, dear ! ” she cried, with the doleful feeling that 
every one has known on wetting their feet with the 
very commencement of a day of pleasure. 

“ What a wretch I am!” cried Ned. “ If it only 
could have been me ! You’ll catch a dozen colds, you 
poor little Libby.” 


HALLOWAY RIDGE. 


145 


^ I hope not.” 

“ But, on your honor, you know all the while that 
you will. We’ll have to go back, won’t we?” he asked 
ruefully. 

“ Go back ! It would be a deal better for me to go 
right on, and keep moving, you foolish boy.” 

“ Isn’t there any thing I can do ? ” he asked help- 
lessly, this being a case too deep for his practice. 

“ Nothing in the world.” 

“ When we get to that miserable little hut, if you 
don’t mind setting your foot in it, you might get dry 
there.” 

“Very well,” she answered, by way of a quietus; 
and then they walked on quickly, under the alders and 
willow trees. The quiet, and the singing of the birds, 
almost made her forget her wet foot, although she knew 
very well that she had never met with such an accident 
before, without a sore throat or a cold following in the 
wake of it. 

But even the hope of the cottage fire was a vain one ; 
for the old man, who seemed a solitary occupant of the 
premises, grew alarmed at the very idea of such needless 
extravagance *as a fire in summer-time. He was “sorry 
for the gal ; but ’twouldn’t hurt her much. Water 
never did hurt folks, as he knowed on; ” but they might 
have the boat for a song, as long as they wished it. 

This being the only resource, they made up their 
minds to enjoy it. 

13 


146 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER X. 


FELLOW - SOLDIERS, 


OW, Libby, how snug can I make you in this little 



-T i craft, with no cushion, and only one shawl?” said 
her cavalier. u The boat is a little damp, as you see ; 
but I’ll wager it’s perfectly safe.” 

As it was only a little damp, the one shawl, being 
spread over Libby’s end of the boat, served very nicely 
for a cushion ; while, of one corner of it, a carpet was 
made for her feet. Libby, enthroned there in state, 
announced that it was really royal, and that she felt as 
luxurious as a queen. 

Ned took his seat with an air of utter content ; and 
they pushed out from among the low maple bushes into 
the smooth blue of the little lake, while the old man 
stood and watched them away. It was almost like 
setting off on a grander voyage, with a fair sky and a 
smooth sea, and friends to wave farewell from the shore. 
It was like an idyl, or a fairy tale. A cloud had but 
just overcast the sun, — a delicate white-fringed cloud, 
contrasting against the blue of the sky ; and the lake 
was so clear and colorless, that every fleecy inch of it 
beamed back distinctly from under the water. Every 
willow bough and branch of white alder that hung over 
the bank rustled again with a cooler life in its shadowy 
reflection ; and the deep wonderful blue formed a back- 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


147 


ground for all. Even the birds sang over and under 
the water ; robins and wrens and bluejays and orioles, 
breaking out into songs and thanksgivings from the 
fulness of their glad little hearts. And, looking over 
the boat, they could see the fishes gliding in and out 
among the reeds and yellow sand, — the fishes which 
would not be caught. There was no sound but the 
dipping of the oars, the wind among the leaves, and the 
birds on the branches. 

Every thing seemed entirely perfect to Libby. She 
sat with one hand in the water, making little ripples in 
the cloud-reflection, while she was thinking to herself 
that, if she might win back all the old-time friendship 
of this young brother of John, it would be just so far a 
pleasure to her, and a tie, a little link, connecting her 
with John himself; a something that, however distantly, 
made a bond between them. 

44 Isn’t this lovely ! ” she said. 44 I almost wish I were 
beginning my life- anew, Ned, — just fresh and new, 
without any stain or shadow on it.*’ 

Ned looked at her, as though seeking to understand 
her words, but sadly at a loss for their meaning. 

44 There is a tame little fish,” she said, “ swimming 
about in the water, and keeping an eye on me : he 
would almost let me stroke him, I think. If you had 
your line now, Ned, you might redeem your sporting- 
character.” 

Ned shrugged his shoulders. 

“ It’s too late for him to be toadying around now ; 
he’s had his opportunity, and missed it, Libby. I 
wouldn’t take him now, if he came, hat in hand, with 
4 By your leave, sir.’ Lost opportunities, you see.” 

She looked up quickly. 


148 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“That is truer of us than of the fish, Ned,” she 
answered. 

It was a somewhat mystical little sentence, with no 
very patent meaning ; but Ned seemed to catch one, 
nevertheless. 

“ Yes : I’m always losing my opportunities,” he said, 
“more’s the pity;” and while she was thinking what to 
answer, and trying to summon courage, that she might 
give a serious turn to this seemingly light remark, he 
suddenly exclaimed, — 

“ What good times we used to have when John was 
home, Libby, years ago ! John was a dear old fellow, 
after all, only so tremendously sharp one never could 
come up with him.” 

Though he shrugged his shoulders and laughed softly, 
as if at some old memory, yet one could easily see that 
a vast amount of brotherly love and pride lay under his 
careless praising. 

“Did you happen to see him before he went off?” 
he asked. 

The question came so suddenly that it startled her, 
hut she answered yes, and turned away her head ; for 
her lips were quivering, and the pain drew tightly at 
her heart. 

“It’s rather odd he didn’t speak of it,” Ned answered 
quietly, marking very well the little turn of her head 
that hid her eyes from his sight. 

“ Perhaps he didn’t think it worth while,” she ven- 
tured in a moihent ; “ there was no occasion.” 

Ned whistled softly, and was quiet for a while. 

“ Improved, isn’t he, Libby ? or didn’t you see him 
often enough to find out? ” 

Then she turned her face to him, quiet and steady, 


FELLO W-S OLDIER S . 


149 


only that her cheeks were somewhat flushed, and that 
might have been caused by the sun and the water. 

“ I thought he seemed very much as he used to,” 
she replied. 

Ned seemed puzzled, and perhaps a little hurt. All 
the Hildreth family, and family friends, thought that a 
few years of college-life had wrought a great improve- 
ment in J ohn ; in short, had left him all that could pos- 
sibly be desired in the way of a man and a gentleman. 
Ned rowed on silently for a while ; and when he spoke 
again it was to make some casual remark, to which 
Libby paid no attention. After all, perhaps he was 
taking too much for granted, and this little girl had no 
sympathy with him on the subject of his brother. Old 
times and old memories were easy to forget. 

“ Now, Ned, you must not take my words amiss,” she 
said, leaning forward and touching his arm lightly. “ I 
think, after all, the pleasantest thing about your brother 
coming back was to find him so much as he used to be 
in the good old time.” 

“ John always was a good friend of yours,” he an- 
swered, “ and a first-rate fellow too, only not j ust accord- 
ing to Bible rules. ‘ The natural heart of man ’ does 
seem in some people to be wonderfully respectable.” 

“ But no natural goodness is of any account,” said 
Libby, musing : “ when God looks at it beside all the sin 
and vanity and corruption that go with it, it just goes 
for nothing at all.” 

Ned laid down his oars under the shade of a great 
willow-tree, and grasped both of Libby’s hands with 
greater eagerness than she had ever seen him show. 

“Have you found that out, Libby Denwitt?” he 
asked. 


13 * 


150 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 Why, yes,” she answered, smiling, “ or rather I have 
been taught it of God.” 

“ But have you found something better, Libby ? ” he 
persisted. 

“ I have found a goodness that will offset all my 
evil,” she answered, “ and cover it up forever.” 

“ And you, Ned ? ” she asked, leaning forward with 
questioning eyes. 

“ Yes, I am roughing it along, too, Libby, have been 
for a year ; hut the good lady don’t take to it, and I’m 
hard up at home, somehow. However, I can’t hide my 
light under a bushel, you know.” 

“ I’m glad you can’t,” said Libby. 

“ Sometimes, though, it does seem as if the old Adam 
was too strong to be put down, doesn’t it ? ” 

“ Oh ! isn’t it hard? ” she answered with a deep-drawn 
sigh. 

44 Poor little Libby ! ” said Ned pityingly, all his sym- 
pathy aroused for this young soldier who was weaker 
than himself, yet who was set to struggle side by side 
with the strongest. 

For Libby, she hardly seemed herself this beautiful 
summer day ; after being weary and heart-sick, she was 
so glad of a little human sympathy and fellow-feeling. 
It had seemed to her for the past few weeks as if, in a 
certain measure, every one around her was estranged 
from her, because she had been living her life so entirely 
apart, with only her Lord to encourage and sympathize. 
It was pleasankto meet on the way a fellow-soldier with 
a young, warm heart like her own, to whom her words 
would not be like a dead language, but rather a well- 
known password. This was why she spoke more freely 
to him than she would have done to others. 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


151 


“ O Ned ! ” she asked, “ did you ever have to give 
up something you wanted very much, more than your 
own life almost? ” 

His eyes searched her through and through for a 
moment, then turned hastily away, as though ashamed 
of their own behavior. 

“ No, never that,” he answered, with an unconscious 
reverence for a trial greater than his own, and for this 
weak girl who had gone through more than himself. 

She dropped her head in her hands for a moment, 
then lifted it with a faint smile. 

“ After all, a good soldier should he willing to suffer.” 

“ That is true, Libby,” he answered heartily, taking 
up his oars again. “ For my part, I have a pretty 
smooth time of it. It’s vexatious to have to bear the 
fellows’ joking and sneers sometimes ; but then there’s 
always fighting in that, and one doesn’t mind, for it 
keeps one on guard. And somehow one can stand it 
better to be dubbed a saint, if he thinks how very far 
short the name comes of fitting.” 

“ I guess you have your battles too,” she said smiling, 
— “ very different from mine.” 

“ There’s all sorts of service, you know, Libby, active 
and passive. There’s field-service with the great flurry 
and fuss of a battle, that’s not so hard ; and there’s 
quiet garrison service, which is prosy and stupid ; and 
there’s secret service where nobody che.ers or talks about 
you ; and there’s dying of wounds in hospitals, nobody 
talks much of that ; and then there are skirmishes, 
little affairs.” 

“ Ned,” she said, interrupting, “ do you know I thank 
you very much ? I didn’t quite understand it before : 
now I see a great deal better how it is. The secret 


152 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


service lies between you and your Captain only, and 
sometimes it’s very hard.” 

14 Yes, very hard, Libby.” 

“Isn’t it like a fairy tale here?” she said in a moment. 

“ It’s like Arcadia, or the enchanted islands : only I’m 
afraid, if we don’t disenchant ourselves, the rations will 
all be devoured.” 

“ Were -people ever hungry in Arcadia, Ned?” 

44 I’m afraid this fellow would have been.” 

44 Poor fellow, he shall be fed at once,” said Libby, 
laughing. 

Ned joined her; and the sound of their laughter 
floated very pleasantly over the water, and reached the 
ears of the party who were dining on shore. 

44 That was Ned’s laugh,” said his mother, with a 
sandwich half raised to her lips : 44 it would serve him 
right to lose his luncheon for being so dilatory, the 
naughty boy.” 

“And where is Libby Denwitt?” asked Clemantha 
Douglass, who was searching about for a suitable rest- 
ing-place. 

44 Sure enough, where is Miss Denwitt ? ” asked sev- 
eral voices in quick surprise. 

44 Oh, dear ! we are not all together at all,” said Miss 
Hildreth, a good deal vexed at the failure of her pro- 
gramme. 44 There’s Miss Libby and Ned, and the min- 
ister, and ” — 

44 Kate Telfair and Mr. Porter ” — 

44 And — O'Ned, what a disagreeable fellow ! why 
can’t you try to be on time ? ” 

It was Ned’s head in the distance, just peering above 
the bank, upon which Miss Hildreth’s eyes had fallen ; 
and, upon this, Ned in full broke upon their view, lead- 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


153 


ing Libby Denwitt up the little ascent to the picnic 
ground. She was flushed and pretty from her expedi- 
tion, and the pleasant talk she had been having with 
Ned; but, as for the confusion which Mrs. Hildreth 
thought only most proper under the circumstances, it 
certainly was wanting. She cared so little for the 
opinion of their fine proper party, this strange, heart- 
sick Libby Denwitt. 

44 Ladies and gentlemen, we beg pardon, said Ned, 
coming forward, and flinging his hat on the grass. 44 I’ll 
perform penance in any shape after dinner. Miss Den- 
witt and I were having a row on the lake, and we didn’t 
vex ourselves about hours.” 

44 1 should think not,” said Ills mother. 

44 1 didn’t know you had the pleasure of Miss Den- 
witt’s acquaintance, Ned,” said his cousin stiffly. 

44 Not know Libby Denwitt ! that’s a good one,” 
laughed Ned. 44 Why, John and I drew her to school 
when she wasn’t higher than the tops of my boots ; 
didn’t we, Libby ? ” 

44 Yes, indeed,” said Libby with a smile : 44 1 think 
there is no doubt of our old acquaintanceship, Ned.” 

No one seemed very well satisfied with the proffered 
information. 

44 And pray where did you contrive to find a boat, 
Mr. Hildreth?” asked one of the gentlemen, who had 
been giving expression all the morning to vain wishes 
for some sort of a craft, yet without bestirring himself 
in the least to find one. 

Ned entered into the matter quite fully, explaining 
to the satisfaction of the company, how he had first 
strayed upon the boat, and how he and Libby had gone 
seeking it afterward. Meantime as a due attention to 


154 


THE GOOD ITGHT OF FAITH. 


eggs, cliicken-salad, and ices, occupied the best energies 
of the company, no one had very much leisure to notice 
the affairs of his neighbor. In the midst of the feast 
the minister strolled in by himself, pocketing a note- 
book and pencil with most suspicious haste, while in 
due course of time Kate Telfair and the other missing 
member also presented themselves, with abundance of 
beautiful wood-flowers and oak-wreaths bound about 
their hats. There was no doubt that they at least had 
been having a pleasant time, and were very little con- 
cerned on the question of their tardiness. 

Every one who has been used to picnics knows how 
the aim and interest is apt to forsake them as soon as 
dinner is ended. During the morning every thing 
hangs upon the advent of the all-important repast, and 
in a certain sense every thing tends towards it. But 
after the table is cleared, and each one has eaten to 
the very limit of his capacity, then “ What shall we 
do ? ” is generally varied by, “ How soon shall we be 
going home?” This picnic was no exception to the 
rule. There was a little lounging about after dinner, a 
little more wandering and culling of flowers for those 
who had something to keep their interest still alive, 
and a little further pursuit of literature under the shade 
of the trees. 

Clem Douglass wandered off for a while with Mr. 
Covermore ; and they two, not being sentimental, or 
over-fond of flowers, fell upon a patch of wild straw- 
berries, and returned with a leafy basket of the delicious 
fruit ; after which Clem fell to pulling daisies in pieces 
to find out who loved her, much to the amusement of 
the gentlemen and of others in the literary circle. Libby 
was sitting near with her crochet-work, so busy with 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 155 

her own thoughts that she paid no heed to the conver- 
sation, until she caught the sound of her own name. 

“ Hush ! I’ll name this one all to myself, in my own 
heart. I wouldn’t dare have Libby Denwitt hear me, 
you know,*’ said Clem to Mr. Covermore ; glancing up 
with her mischievous eyes at Libby’s quiet face. 

“ Libby Denwitt,” she said, “ you’re as solemn as an 
owl. Whatever ails you to-day ? Have a strawberry, 
dear.” ^ 

Libby took the strawberries that were offered, and 
nodded her thanks. 

44 Indeed, I have hardly heard Miss Denwitt laugh 
this whole day,” said Mr. Covermore. 

“Indeed,” said Libby : “ I should have said I’d laughed 
my share ; but seeing the others laughing has been all- 
sufficient, I suppose.” 

“ Ah ! that is the way with these self-subduing little 
ladies,” he made answer. “ I never yet could quite 
comprehend what was the secret of this complete self- 
abnegation, this enjoying one’s self always in the enjoy- 
ment of others.” 

“ A truce,” cried Mrs. Hildreth. “ No one shall vex 
Miss Libby. I have it on the evidence of my own 
senses that her self-abnegation surpasses any thing we 
can understand. As I know she has just been passing 
through ‘ deep waters,’ I think she has a right to be 
sober.” 

“ Deep waters, eh ? ” cried Miss Anabel. “ Now do 
explain, Miss Denwitt. I am like Mr. Covermore : I 
never could quite understand the mystery of passing 
through 4 deep waters.’ ” 

Libby flushed, and then grew very pale. 44 1 think, 
Miss Hildreth,” she said, 44 that any knowledge of the 


156 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


question you gain from me would avail you very little.” 
Though her heart was all in a tumult, she spoke with a 
quiet dignity which one or two who knew her marvelled 
to see ; and she was trying with all her strength, not to 
he angry at these troublesome friends. 

However, Kate Telfair’s voice calling her to the lake 
was a welcome sound at this moment, as it gave her an 
opportunity and excuse to escape. 

“ Poor little thing,” said Mrs. Hildreth compassion- 
ately, and looking after her with an indulgent smile. 

“ Now, Aunt Anna,” said Lu Hildreth, “ honest and 
true ! What is there to compassionate in this Libby 
Denwitt ? It can’t be possible, now it really can’t, 
that there ever was any thing between John Hildreth 
and her.” 

“ How should I know, indeed, my dear ? ” said the 
lady, drawing down her lips in a provoking manner that 
meant a deal more than it assumed. 

“ There’s something behind all that, dear Mrs. Hil- 
dreth,” some city damsel exclaimed, with eager intent 
for a story. 

“ Yes ; ‘ thereby hangs a tale,’ ” quoted Miss Lu. 

“ You don’t really suppose, children, that John 
makes me his confidante in all his little heart affairs ? ” 

“ Ah ! but indeed that is quite what we do ; for we 
all know how much Mr. Hildreth makes of his mother.” 

The mother looked pleased, and ruffled her feathers 
with' conscious pride, before she glanced cautiously 
around her. 

“ Where is Ned ? ” she asked irrelevantly. 

“ Off with the parson, for a stroll,” said Lu. “ Trust 
to him for keeping clear of the ladies, Aunt Anna. 
Now unburden your heart, like a dear good soul, and 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


157 


answer my simple little questions, without any more 
evasions. I want to know for the credit of the family, 
I positively do.” 

“ What am I to say, my dear ? Miss Denwitt was 
certainly very fond of John,” said John’s mother 
simply. 

“ Oh ! any fool could see that, of course,” cried Miss 

Lu. 

“ But poor John ! after all, I am afraid he is not quite 
free from blame,” added the lady, with a deprecatory 
sigh. “ His heart is so tender, - — quite like a woman’s, 
my dear, — he can’t bear to give pain to any one. In 
good truth, I am quite convinced, if he fancied a girl in 
love with him, he would offer to marry her on the spot, 
from the merest pity, nothing more, my dear. But 
then, don’t grow so eager, children ; it was nothing at 
all of that kind, of course.” 

“ Was there any thing like an engagement, Aunt 
Anna ? ” Lu persisted. “ I can’t sleep at night,, till my 
curiosity and my cousinly anxiety are satisfied.” 

“ Oh, no, my dear ! it was hardly that. Some little 
understanding entered into on the impulse of the mo- 
ment; the merest flirtation, that was all. I’m even 
suspicious that John had no heart to give ; but little 
family matters will spread so, more’s the pity.” 

“ Well, she acted like a simpleton, if one so much as 
said c John ’ to her,” Miss Anabel remarked. 

“ Why, that is quite natural, my dear: wait till your 
own turn comes. Almost every girl does that in her 
day. I’ve not a word to say against this little girl — 
indeed, I’m beginning to feel quite like a mother toward 
her.” 

Miss Lu laughed. 

14 


158 


THE GOOD FfGHT OF FATTII. 


“Aunt Anna’s motherliness is a little too patent,” 
she said. “ Now we understand somewhat better about 
the mysteries of c deep waters.’ If I’m ever jilted, I’ll 
have it plainly understood that I’m going through 
‘ deep waters,’ like Libby Denwitt.” 

“ That is very childish, my dear Lu : she behaved 
remarkably well in every respect, as I have good reason 
to know. When she understood the case, she gave him 
up quite uncomplainingly. I was not at all surprised, 
however, to miss her at the station the other morning.” 

“ Maybe she’ll take comfort in something more saintly 
than soldiers,” said Miss Lu, with a significant glance 
at Mr. Hilton, who with Ned Hildreth came upon the 
scene at that moment. 

“Well, I declare ! I think you are all choice friends, 
any way,” cried Clemantha Douglass, rising to her feet. 
“ I wouldn’t give a cast-off shoe for such sorry friendship 
as that, Miss Hildreth ; and I don’t believe a word 
of all these fine stories. Any of the girls could tell 
you, any one of them, that Libby Denwitt never cared a 
toss of her head for John Hildreth in that way. I’ve 
heard her say as much, more than once myself.” 

“ Which was certainly rather uncalled for, on her 
part, now, wasn’t it? ” said Lu. 

Mrs. Hildreth looked round upon the company, with 
a significant smile, as much as to say, “We can let it 
rest : we understand ourselves without the help of this 
unenlightened country-girl.” 

However, she condescended to give a little further 
explanation. 

“ I assure you, my dear Miss Douglass,” she said, 
' that with me she told quite a different story, and felt 
in quite another frame of mind. But let us say no 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


159 


more about it : we will admit, for your sake, since you 
seem to be deeply concerned, that she never cared a 
toss of her head for my son. I am sure I wish we 
could make it true by the saying.” 

“ What is all this? ” cried Ned excitedly, coming up, 
and standing before his mother with a determined air 
which seemed to have very little effect on the suavity 
and complacency of the lady. Clem was the only one 
who noticed the minister set down his strawberries, and 
walk off again with folded arms into the woods. Why 
should he stay to hear them gossip of this little girl, 
when, whatever the charges they might bring against 
her, he could not contradict or deny them ? True, in his 
own heart he had enthroned her quite too royally ; and 
he staked all his happiness for this life on her being 
henceforth heart-free from any love but his own: yet he 
knew too, that, for love of some one, her cheek was 
growing pale, and her step very listless. Did he not 
also know for whom ? 

44 Ned, go pack up the basket,” said his mother. 

. “ I defy any one of you all to breathe a word against 
Libby Denwitt,” he cried ; 44 above all, for the sake of a 
Hildreth.” 

44 And we are not breathing any thing but the purest 
country air, my dear,” said Miss Anabel ; “ certainly 
nothing against Miss Denwitt.” 

“ Isn’t it true, Clem ? ” asked Ned, somewhat irrele- 
vantly. 

44 True as gospel,” answered Clem, in a savage humor. 
44 They’ve been laughing at Lib for a half hour or 
more.” 

44 A very fair and gentle company,” said Ned, with an 
inimitable sneer. 44 1 wonder how John will like being 


160 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


mixed up with the business. I rather think I’ll ask 
him.” 

The threat seemed to alarm no one but Mrs. Hil- 
dreth, who grew pale for a moment, then tried to make 
her part in the matter as clear as possible. 

“ How senseless you are, Ned ! ” said Miss Hildreth 
crossly. “ Don’t take up the gauntlet until it is thrown 
to you. Where’s the slander or the harm in suggesting 
that a girl is in love ? ” 

u The very worst I intimated,” said his mother, “was 
that the love was not returned. Surely that is no blame 
whatever to her, — quite unavoidable, perhaps. Don’t 
be so foolish, Ned. I am very fond of Miss Denwitt.” 

“ It may be no blame whatever,” he said ; “ of course 
it is not ; but I think perhaps Miss Denwitt would pre- 
fer not to have it published from the housetops ; and, 
what’s more, I don’t believe it.” 

And, far from being appeased, Ned continued to 
glower for the rest of the afternoon, fully persuaded in 
his own mind that he would find out from John him- 
self what was the drift of the whole matter. 

As for Libby, she w^as in profound ignorance of all 
that had transpired. She and Kate had been sitting on 
the gravel, throwing pebbles in the water, and chatting 
in their free, open-hearted way, only more of Kate’s 
affairs than Libby’s this afternoon. It was only when 
at last the signal for returning was given, they gathered 
themselves up from the sand, and joined the moving 
party. 

It was then, riding home in the twilight, that Libby 
found herself side by side with Mr. Hilton, on the back 
seat of one of the wagons. She had not spoken to him 
all that day, except in greeting ; indeed, she had not 


EELLOW-SOLDIEES. 


1G1 


spoken to him since that sabbath afternoon when she 
went with her troubled heart to ask his counsel ; and she 
had a strong desire to say a few m>rds to him now. 
The seats in front of them were filled with the merriest 
group of the whole company, the young and untired 
portion of it. The air rang with jokes and laughter for 
a while, and then with glees and songs. Libby could 
scarcely hear her own voice when she spoke to ask her 
companion if he had had a pleasant day. 

He had sung with the others at first, but had stopped 
in a few moments, as though the singing were no 
pleasure to him ; and Libby was sorry at this, for his 
voice was rich and deep, and pleased her better than 
any of the others. 

He started when she spoke, and turned suddenly 
toward her. 

Had he had a pleasant time ? Yes ; that is to saj^, a 
quiet time — not an unpleasant day. And she ? 

She had been happier than she thought to be. 

Then she asked him why he had stopped singing ; 
and he answered with a smile, that he thought there 
was something in his voice that jarred with the music 
of the others. 

There was silence on the back seat for a few mo- 
ments, but after a while she laid her hand on his arm. 

44 Mr. Hilton,” she said, 44 1 did what the old minister 
said in his sermon.” 

44 You did what your conscience told you was right, 
Miss Libby.” 

She looked up with a troubled smile into his face. 

44 Yes, it must have been right,” she answered: 44 1 
am sure it must have been right, because it was so 
hard.” 


14 * 


162 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Are all hard things right, Miss Libby ? ” 

“ It seems to me they are very apt to be,” she 
answered. 

“ How so ? ” he asked, looking at her keenly : “ how 
do yon draw that conclusion, my little friend? ” 

“ Else how should it be called a fight ? ” she ques- 
tioned eagerly ; “ where would be the battle if right 
things were easy ? ” 

“Libby,” he said gently, “we who are soldiers shall 
not shrink from the fighting, shall we ? ” 

Then she divined, with a true instinct, that this man, 
too, had a warfare on her own battle-ground. She was 
dimly conscious that he might have battles to fight 
almost as hard as her own. His face had been growing 
pale of late, and his words from the pulpit more 
solemn and earnest ; and are not earnestness and real 
power almost always born of suffering ? 

“ We will be glad to fight such battles as our Leader 
sees fit ; shall we not, dear friend? ” he repeated. 

“ Not glad perhaps, but willing ; after a while very 
willing,” she answered. “ I did not speak to make a 
boast of any thing I have done, Mr. Hilton, — only — 
you were very kind and very true. If you seemed 
then to have no pity, I think now you showed the 
truest kindness ; and I wanted to thank you, and to 
tell you that you did me good.” 

“ Thank God for that,” he said : “ that is what I 
wculd like to do always, my friend.” 

“And then — after this, I mean — I would rather 
never speak of it again in any way : ” she hesitated : 
“ not that I doubt your sympathy, or that I am unwill- 
ing you should know of my sorrow,” — she spoke very 
humbly, — “ but it is better to let the matter rest ; and 


FELLOW-SOLDIERS. 


168 


I know you will always be my friend, Mr. Hilton, what- 
ever comes.” 

And, truth to say, Mr. Hilton was unfeignedly glad 
of the one small olive-branch she held to him. 


164 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XI. 

“THEY ALSO SERVE WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT.” 

rpHE next morning Martha was firmly convince® 
-L that Libby’s picnicking had been productive of 
unlimited good, and that picnics in general were most 
praiseworthy affairs ; for Libby’s pale cheeks were 
flushed rosy red, while her eyes danced with even more 
than their old-time brightness. It was a small matter 
if she seemed a little languid : that was only the nat- 
ural result of so much unusual walking, and would 
quite pass off when she had taken a long nap and eaten 
a hearty dinner. To be sure, she only ate the half of a 
boiled egg for breakfast ; but that was not to be won- 
dered at in one who had been feasting on cakes and 
sweetmeats the day before. Martha knew nothing 
about the exquisitely sharp pains that were shooting all 
day through Libby’s back and head, nor of the feverish 
burning in those pretty red cheeks. The pains were 
invisible on the surface, and Libby did not mention 
them. 

But when a little hacking cough began in the course 
of the morning, and kept growing more frequent hour 
by hour, then first she raised her keen gray eyes to 
Libby’s face, with a look of injured suspicion ; and the 
failure of the hearty dinner after this made her look 
with disapproval on even the rosy cheeks. But it was 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


165 


when she stumbled upon Libby’s wet and muddy shoe 
tucked in the corner of the fireplace to dry, that her 
smouldering indignation hurst forth. 

“Well, I declare, Lizabeth Denwitt ! if you hain’t 
gone and soaked your foot yesterday,” she cried. 

“ I couldn’t help it, Martha,” said Libby meekly : “ I 
slipped in.” 

“ And now you can’t help being sick, I suppose. No 
wonder you couldn’t eat a morsel of dinner: how do 
you feel like, child ? ” 

“ I feel like one big pain,” said Libby languidly, — 
“ all over me.” 

“ Like enough : it’s just what one might expect from 
picnics. Well, well.”' 

Martha’s rough hands grew suddenly tender as she 
busied herself about this little sister. She took her up 
stairs, and put her in bed as naturally as though she had 
been a child again ; darkened the little room, just so 
that the air might come in, and the sun stay out ; hov- 
ered about her on little thoughtful errands here and 
there ; and bound up the aching head, and prepared a 
cool drink for her, before she started off through the 
hot sun for the doctor. 

How many, many days there were in which Martha 
had to linger about Libby’s sick-room, — until June 
grew into July, and half-way on to August again ! Day 
after day her heart and fingers grew tender together, 
while day after day the film seemed to pass away from 
her eyes, showing her all that there was in her life, and 
how very much she might make of it. This portion of 
her life became very precious to her in those days when 
it seemed about to pass away — when Libby’s arm 
clung about her neck in the long nights of watching, 


1G6 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


and the sweet fevered lips were pressed again and again 
to her cheek in restlessness or love. Then Martha felt 
that she would never complain of her life again, that 
it could never he hard or dreary with this bit of bright- 
ness shining through it. She would never talk of bur- 
docks and mulleins again, while she had this little sister 
to take care of. Martha had little hope or brightness in 
this world ; and, after all, perhaps Libby was the largest 
part of it. 

Libby was very loving and penitent in her sickness. 
She would put her arms about Martha’s neck, and 
declare many times that she did truly love her, that she 
always would love her ; and then Martha’s heart would 
swell with a great unwonted tenderness, So that it seemed 
to her nothing would be too bitter to bear, or too hard 
to do, for this little child-sister. She even went so far, 
that, when she heard Libby calling for John in her 
delirium and pain, she wished without any bitterness 
that she could have had the power to give them to each 
other, and let them be happy together. Martha’s old 
careworn heart was growing pure and unselfish, while 
Libby lay so near to the gates of death. 

And the Southcliff world went on as usual with 
its pleasures and its burdens, Libby’s illness only 
making a little stir in it here and there. Every day 
came the minister and some of the girls ; while two or 
three times a week other good neighbors came to ask 
after Libby, and offer excellent advice which Martha 
was loath to receive. Sometimes, when the little head 
up stairs was very hot and heavy, she had almost shut 
the door in their faces. 

Mrs. Marsey, however, came and relieved her a great 
many times ; and every day old George Denwitt mounted 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


167 


the stairs to scan his little daughter through his specta- 
cles ; and once or twice he stroked her head, and whis- 
pered “ Poor child, poor child.” While, as for Martha, 
she felt every thing that made earth endurable, every 
thing but the love of Christ, was slipping from her. 

Every day Ned Hildreth stopped to leave a little 
bunch of flowers ; and every day Martha put them in 
water, and set them on the table at the side of Libby’s 
bed, where they stood and withered unnoticed. Another 
thing Ned Hildreth did. When he said in his vexation 
at the picnic that he would ask his brother how he 
liked his share in what had passed, he scarcely meant 
what he said, nor indeed had the faintest intention of 
speaking a word to John on the subject. But one or 
two little matters and circumstances of more recent 
date had deepened his first hasty thought, and turned 
it into a purpose. 

In the first place, the trifling hints and innuendoes 
coupled with Libby’s name, which he heard passing con- 
tinually between his mother and the Hildreth girls, kept 
him in a perpetual state of aggravation and fuming. To 
be sure, there was little at which he could take offence. 
Libby was only a “ poor little thing,” to be laughed at 
and ridiculed in rather a tender, friendly way ; but the 
remarks that he failed to understand vexed him more 
than those that were plain to him. To be sure, after 
Libby was taken ill, his mother was prompt to send her 
jellies and little relishing dainties, which for his part he 
had rather she kept to herself ; above all, when one day 
he heard Lu Hildreth, with her pretty eyebrows arched 
and her lip curled, allude to the cause of Libby’s ill- 
ness, u the deep waters had been a little too much, she 
supposed ; one must always give vent to these things 


168 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


in some way ; they had to be yielded to for a while, 
like an oyer-dose of physic.” 

Still Ned had very faint intentions of spreading the 
matter any farther, until one day when Libby had been 
ill about a fortnight, he overheard his cousin, when 
chatting with one of Libby’s old school-friends, gently 
bring in little parts of Mrs. Hildreth’s story with her 
own illustrations and embellishments. Of course she 
had a world of pity for Libby Denwitt ; but then, poor 
child, she had such a warm heart : it was very unfortu- 
nate for her. For her part, she had always maintained 
that a woman should not be blamed but pitied for loving 
without return ; and then, oh, dear ! she would get over 
it in a little ; and indeed she herself should not have 
said a word about it, only, to tell the truth, she was 
lamentably fond of gossip, she supposed, — with a little 
laugh, — and, while they were talking of Libby and 
John, it was such a temptation. 

“ It is well every one does not yield to such vile temp- 
tations,” said Ned wrathfully, and much to the amaze- 
ment of the company. 

That was all at this time ; but, a day or two after, 
even old Mrs. Marsey asked him in confidence, what 
was all this talk about Libby Denwitt ? for her part, 
she didn’t believe a word on’t, and she told ’em so. 
Folks was so fond of talkin’ ! ’Twas more like, now, to 
her mind, Libby’d jilted John. 

Ned said, much more likely, as she might tell them, 
and then went home to write his threatened letter. This 
was what he said to John : — 

“ Little Libb3 T Denwitt has been ill with pneumonia, for 
nearly a month, in a very low state. Some people say she 
will never get over it ; but that is not to the point. 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


169 


“ The Hildreth girls, and mother too, I take it, have spread 
a story all over the village that she was over head and ears 
in love with you, John. There’s a deal of woman’s mystery 
about it ; but it is pretty well understood in Southcliff, that, 
the love being a one-sided affair, she magnanimously resigned 
you to some other fair one. I don’t know, old fellow, how 
much you care for hey. If you couldn’t return her love, you 
are a little past my comprehension ; but I do know there is a 
contemptible falsehood somewheres about it ; and if you 
can’t come up like a man, and say so, or write so, or make it 
square in some fashion, you are not what I take you for. 
Write as soon as you can, there’s a dear old fellow. 

Ned.” 

John wrote as soon as he could; but letters went 
astray in those days, oftener than they went straight to 
their destinations ; and Ned’s had shared the common 
fate. It was the last day of August when John received 
his letter ; and when he answered it, as he did that same 
night in the first moment of possible leisure, he wrote 
with the thought in his heart that “ little Libby Den- 
witt ’* might even then be lying in Southcliff church- 
yard, with the grass pressed over her. 

Of course he could not know that this was the best 
day Libby had had for six weeks past, and the first on 
which she was admitted to the sitting-room. She went 
down leaning on her sister’s arm, and dressed in a pretty 
red wrapper, upon which Martha had been diligently 
stitching for the past week, with a view to this impor- 
tant day. Libby’s face was still very pale, but with a 
gentle, restful look, which had come from the wear}* 
days of her sickness when she drew so near to her Sav- 
iour, and learnt beyond a doubt that he was both her 
kindest and her surest guide. 

15 


170 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ That’s well, Elizabeth,” said her father, as Martha 
established Libby in the great easy-chair ; “ you’ll do 
better now. It’s always well to have the lordliness and 
the pride taken out of us, and the self-will put down.” 

“ It doesn’t seem as if I had any will left,” Libby 
answered, with a quiet laugh, which seemed almost like 
the old times again. 

“ You’ll find it, you’ll find it,” he rejoined, shaking 
his head : “ it takes more than that to grind out the 
human nature. Isn’t there any thing on earth that you 
want very much ? ” 

“ Never mind him, Lizzie,” whispered Martha, stoop- 
ing down to smooth her hair. “ He don’t mean any 
harm, father don’t.” 

“ Isn’t there, Elizabeth ? ” he insisted. 

“ You know, father, I have just been sick,” she said, 
“ and I am very moderate in my desires. I don’t think 
I want any thing just now, that God doesn’t want to 
give me.” 

“ Hum,” he answered, “ it’s all vanity and self-decep- 
tion. Wouldn’t you like to have a fine house, and 
horses and coaches, and every thing you put your 
mind on ? ” 

“ I don’t care a straw for them,” she answered brightly, 
looking up in his face with a little saucy smile. 

“ Oh, law ! ” said Martha, turning away from the win- 
dow, with a long-drawn sigh, “ I’ll warrant now she 
wishes Mrs. Job Horn had kept to home.” 

“ It’s all levity, it’s all levity,” said the old man 
slowly, shaking his head. 

“I’d just as lief see even Mrs. Horn,” said Libby 
stoutly ; “ and I’ll go to the door and welcome her, 
Martha.” 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


171 


Martha put a veto on this proceeding; and, in the 
midst of the laughing struggle that followed, Mrs. Horn 
herself appeared on the scene. 

“ Law, now ! if you ain’t about again,” she said, jerk- 
ing Libby’s hand spasmodically, in her hard, bony grasp. 
“ As perk as ever, for all I see ; and there’s my Peggy 
ailin’ every day of her life.” 

“ I’ve been ailing so long, that I am going to try and 
get well now, Mrs. Horn,” said Libby. 

“Well, I hope you kin. It don’t do to boast too 
soon,” said the lady, putting on her spectacles, and tak- 
ing out her knitting-work. “ I’ve hearn tell of folks 
havin’ dreadful pull-backs with pneumony : it’s apt to 
run into consumption, specially with cold weather 
Cornin’ on.” 

“ Why, I am getting quite strong,” said Libby. 

“ Well, maybe. I don’t say ; but there was Margaret 
Pledwin, died when you wa'n’t more’n so high, — slow 
consumption; had pneumony in the fall, and seemed 
to get well enough arter it. Doctor stopped cornin’ ; 
and she kind of dragged herself round a few months, 
like other folks. There didn’t seem to be nothin’ special 
the matter with her ; but her cough hung on, and she 
just kind of slid off, without anybody’s thinkin’ on’t.” 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” said Martha. “ Libby’s cough is quite 
well. The Pledwins always were a consumptive family.” 

“ There’s some say as how Elizabeth hain’t had 
pneumony at all,” said Mrs. Horn significantly. 

This Mrs. Horn was an embodiment of her own name, 
from the wiry angular bunches of curls each side of her 
forehead, to the hard thump of her great buskined foot, 
as you heard it on your doorstep. Her face was long 
and bony, with a thin pursed mouth, narrow forehead, 


172 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


long nose, and high cheek-bones. Her black eyes were 
as small as they well could he under the circumstances ; 
and when they peered at Libby, while their owner was 
making this apparently searching remark, the effect was 
any thing but agreeable. 

“ Well, I’d like to know,” said Martha tartly. “ She 
did have pneumonia, then, and nothing else. What 
would people like her to have ? ” 

“ Law, folks will talk, Miss Denwitt. Some said it 
came from heart troubles ; but I don’t set much account 
by gossip.” 

“ We ain’t a family much given to troubles of the 
heart,” said Martha dryly ; “ and ’tain’t likely Libby’ll 
begin.” 

“And you may tell them, Mrs. Horn,” said Libby 
quietly, “ that I caught cold at the picnic, but that I 
am quite well now.” 

“Hum,” said Mrs. Horn, slowly surveying her; 
“ well, I won’t say there wa’n’t a show of reason in it ; 
and I won’t say as I’m quite convinced to the contrary. 
When young gals wet their toes, in my day, ’twa’n’t 
common for ’em to be laid up for six weeks or more. 
Things’s changed.” 

“ Well, I’d like to know the time when everybody 
didn’t know your own business better than yourself, 
and come telling you about it,” said Martha. 

Mrs. Horn flushed angrily, to the tip of her long nose. 
“ Some doin’s are better known,” she said. “ In my 
day, when a young woman courted a feller, and had to 
be thrown off at last, folks thought ’twas better to say 
somethin’ about it.” 

“ Mrs. Horn,” said Martha coldly, “ if you’ll come 
out fair and square with what you’ve got to say, maybe 
I can set it straight.” 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


173 


“ Oh ! maybe, maybe,” said Mrs. Horn. “ Perhaps 
you don’t know what all Soutlicliff talks about ; maybe 
you don’t know John Hildreth threw Elizabeth off, 
when he found somebody he liked better.” 

Martha turned quickly toward Libby, then back to 
her visitor. 

“ If you don’t know no better — you, an old married 
woman — than to come here with such lies as that, then 
you’d better stay away,” she said. 

Mrs. Horn rose up with a jerk, and put her knitting- 
work away. It was evident that the story, whatever it 
might be, could not be in any way softened through her 
instrumentality. 

“ Oh ! very well, I’ll say good-mornin’,” she said. 
“ As Elizabeth holds her tongue, I take it she ain’t so 
afeared of the truth as some other folks.” 

Libby sat quietly, with her hands folded, looking 
after Mrs. Horn, as she vanished down the path ; then 
she said, “ Southcliff has been very busy, Martha.” 

“ It’s a downright shame,” cried Martha. “ I ” — 

“ Now, young woman,” interrupted her father, turn- 
ing to Libby, “ isn’t there any thing in the world you 
want above God’s will ? Don’t you want to have this 
rumor hushed up ? ” 

“ O father ! ” she said languidly, “ I don’t think I’d 
raise my hand to stop it. God knows, and I know, and 
some one else.” 

“ And that’s enough,” said Martha. 

“ Don’t you see, woman,” said her father, “ that the 
child is setting up false lights for herself? You’ll see 
where they’ll lead her to, one of these days.” 

He went back to his book, and Libby sat looking out 
of the window, lost in thought. 

15 * 


174 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


The subject was not broached again that day; but 
at night, when the pretty red wrapper was hung in the 
closet, and Martha, blaming herself without end, that 
she had allowed her patient to go down stairs at all, 
had darkened the blind, and set the little bunch of 
roses near her, then Libby called her oyer to the bed- 
side. 

“ Marty,” she said gently, stroking her sister’s care- 
worn face, “ God knows, and John knows : it doesn’t 
trouble me.” 

“ No, never mind it, Lizzie,” said Martha, with some- 
thing very like a sob in her voice. 

“ And, Martha, sit down a minute, dear. I want to 
tell you, because you seem different to me from what 
you used ; and because, when you hear people talking, 
you will understand just how it is.” 

“ Never mind, child,” said Martha, stroking Libby’s 
hair. “ Don’t say a word. I don’t believe any of 
them.” 

“ You know, Martha, you asked me once, if there 
was any thing between us two, John Hildreth and me. 
There isn’t now ; but once, for a little while, there was. 
Last May, before he left, he told me, one day, that he 
loved me ; and, because I loved him very dearly too, I 
promised to be his wife. But afterwards we — I saw 
that it couldn’t be ; I mean, that we ought not to 
marry : and so it is all over, Martha. Don’t be vexed 
any more on my account, there’s a dear old soul.” 

“ Poor little Lizzie, poor little Lizzie ! ” said Martha. 
“ It’s the old story over again.” 

“ No, I don’t think it will be the old story,” said 
Libby thoughtfully : “ we’ll do better than that, 

Martha.” 


SERVING AND WAITING. 


175 


“And why wouldn’t you have John Hildreth?” 
asked Martha suspiciously. “ Is there any thing wrong 
about him ? ” 

u Oh, no ! ” said Libby quickly ; “ not that, Martha, 
not that. Oh ! you mustn’t think that for a moment. 
But he isn’t — well, Martha, you know he isn’t a Chris- 
tian ; and I’m such a poor, miserable Christian myself, 
it wouldn’t ever have done for me, you see. I didn’t 
want to see it, but I had to.” 

Martha kissed Libby twice on her pretty, flushed 
forehead, then went out softly, closing the door behind 
her ; and as she went she murmured to herself, “ In my 
mind, she’s more of a saint than the parson, even now.” 


176 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ SONGS IN THE NIGHT.” 

FEW days after this, Miss Hildreth had a tea- 



-Ajl_ gathering ; it was not a party at all. Oh, dear, 
no ! only a little social coming together to take a cup of 
tea, and have a general good time, each in his own way. 
Miss Lu took occasion to step over to Mr. Denwitt’s that 
morning, for the third time since Libby had been ill, to 
make some little inquiries concerning her progress. She 
had heard, she said, that Libby had been seen down 
stairs ; and the chief cause of her visit at this time was 
to see if they could not prevail upon her to go just a 
step farther, and have a pleasant chat and a little music 
with them that evening. She would see precisely the 
same people she had met at the picnic ; no one else, not 
even so many. Hardly any Southcliff people would be 
there, only the minister, and, yes, perhaps one or two 
others. They wanted Libby very much ; indeed, they 
felt as if she were quite one of their own set, as Miss 
Lu expressed it. 

She had found Libby by the sitting-room window, still 
in her soft red wrapper and easy-chair, and a bunch of 
Ned’s flowers on the table beside her, with which she 
was toying idly as she rocked, pulling off here a little 
withered petal, and there a yellow leaf, and arranging 
them more gracefully among themselves. She was at 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT.' 


ITT 




just that stage of convalescence when simply to sit idle 
and look about one, with the sense of rest and quiet, is 
an unqualified luxury. 

She was just like a picture, Miss Lu declared. How 
very becoming it was to be sick ! but then she was posi- 
tive, in her coaxing way, that Miss Libby was not too 
ill to ride out, if she chose, and they would be so glad 
to send the carriage for her. 

Libby shook her head, still playing idly with her 
roses. 

“ I assure you it is quite impossible,” she said. “ I 
thank you very much for your kindness, but indeed you 
must excuse me.” 

“ I don’t think we can, indeed,” said her visitor. 

“ I am not strong enough yet to go anywhere : tell 
• Miss Hildreth so, Mart.” 

Martha obediently echoed Libbj^’s words. 

“Well enough! No, indeed she ain’t! and won’t 
be, for the matter of that, if folks keep coming around 
and bothering her so, Mrs. Job Horn and the rest of 
’em.” 

Libby laughed softly. 

“ Oh, indeed ! What a pity ! ” said Miss Lu. “ Some 
people are so inconsiderate. I really hope I am not 
annoying you, Miss Libby.” 

“ Oh ! not at all,” said Libby carelessly. 

“ Indeed, I wish I could persuade you to come to- 
night. Really, you have quite a color in your cheeks : 
there, see, pretty as ever. I know some one who will 
be vexed not to see you, oh, so vexed ! some one who 
has come to Southcliff two or three times since the pic- 
nic, in hopes of catching a glimpse of you. This time 
he’ll tear his hair by the roots, and go back to his home 
in a state of desolation.” 


178 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITII. 


“ I’ve no doubt he can be comforted, and induced to 
spare his hair,” said Libby absently. 

“ Hard-hearted ! Well, I don’t see that I can use any 
further inducement ; and, as I have no end of affairs on 
my hands, I will only say again that I am very sorry, 
and bid you good-morning.” 

“ Good-morning ! You must try to believe that I am 
very grateful, even if I can’t accept your invitation,” 
said Libby. 

After her guest had gone, she sat idly, as before, 
smelling now and then of her flowers, and rocking softly 
to and fro in the flecks of sunlight that came through 
the honeysuckle around the window. 

“Martha*!” she called to her sister as she passed 
through from the kitchen. “ What do you suppose .the 
Hildreths want ? ” 

“ What do they want ? I am sure I don’t know, 
child,” Martha answered in bewilderment. 

“ With me, I mean,” said Libby, smiling. “ You see, 
I’m of no account at all ; less now than ever, since I 
have grown so stupid ; and, besides, I am very sure the 
Hildreths don’t like me. What ever do they keep com- 
ing after me for? You don’t know how it vexes me, 
Mart. I don’t care a fig about having blue blood, and 
being aristocratic, and all that farrago of nonsense : they 
may have it all, and welcome ; but I won’t be patron- 
ized, Mart.” Libby’s lip quivered, and the trembling 
of her hand showed how weak she was. 

“ I don’t know, child,” said Martha : “ they’re high- 
flying girls, but maybe they mean well enough. ’Tain’t 
Christian to be vexed with them, I suppose.” 

Libby bit her lip, and rocked more vigorously. 

“How could you think of marrying John Hildreth, 


“SONGS ‘IN THE NIGHT. 


179 


5? 


if you can’t bear a little notice from his own f&lks ? he’s 
as high and lofty as any of them, I suppose. I wouldn’t 
marry a man, if I was afraid he’d patronize me.” 

Sore as Libby’s heart was feeling, she laughed a quick, 
amused laugh at this. 

“ Why, you dear old Mart,” she said, “ don’t you 
know there’s no such thing as patronage in love, and 
the idea of a husband patronizing you is simply abnor- 
mal and monstrous.” 

“ I suppose so,” said Martha, evidently not in the 
least comprehending the matter. 

“ Come here,” said Libby, patting her hand on the 
window-sill : “ sit down there a minute.” 

“ I ain’t got time, child.” 

“Just a minute — so. You think I’m wicked to be 
vexed, don’t you, Mart? Do you think I am very 
wrong ? ” 

“ No,” said Martha : “you try to do right, Lizzie; and 
I’m vexed enough myself sometimes.” 

■“ Am I cross, am I very cross, Marthy ? ” she asked, 
rubbing her soft little cheek against her sister’s. “ Do 
you know, I’m sorry to have that angry feeling in my 
heart, because I want to be quite at peace with my 
Saviour, all the time for the rest of my life. I’m 
going to ask him to help me conquer it. That’s all : 
now you can go back to your work, Mart; run along. 
And I’m ashamed to be idle any longer: bring me 
the skirt of your new gingham, and I’ll hem it, just for 
fun, you know.” 

Martha objected decidedly at first ; but, as Libby had 
her own way in the end, the gingham skirt made its 
appearance, and the fighting and sewing went on to- 
gether. Indeed, the sewing was by far the easier part 


180 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


of it ; fdr Libby would no sooner think the battle 
gained, when other and newer rebellious feelings would 
rise, fully armed, to take the place of the old ones. 
Such battles are sometimes long in the fighting. 

They had quite a pleasant gathering at the Hil- 
dreths’, with not more than six or eight friends from 
the city, and a few of the young people of Southcliff, 
who were willing to be patronized to an unlimited 
extent. 

Ned Hildreth had at first refused to be present, 
having no taste for tea or social chatting parties ; and 
for this reason his cousins were somewhat taken by 
surprise, when about tea-time he entered the parlor, as 
though his coming were a matter of course, and pro- 
ceeded to make himself at home among the guests. 
There was no accounting for Ned’s freaks ; but then, 
of course, it was a pleasant surprise, if he would only 
don a decorous deportment and not disgrace the 
family. No one could know what a prominent part he 
had set for himself in the evening’s entertainment. 

They played croquet until every one was tired, after 
which supper came as a pleasant relief. There were 
always remarkable suppers at the Hildreths’, and this 
was no exception to the rule. Moreover, the hostesses 
were as genial and pleasant as the summer day itself ; 
and it only seemed the most natural thing in the world 
to linger about the table after every one was satisfied, 
and chat over little nothings for mere pastime and 
diversion. 

It was not Ned Hildreth’s part to make a move in 
one way or another ; but, for all that, everybody was 
presently startled and amazed on seeing him rise from 
his seat before even his hostess, and look around with 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT.' 


181 




an air of dignified importance on the rest of the 
guests. 

Mr. Covermore was making inquiries of Miss Lu 
concerning Libby Denwitt; and she was telling him in 
a laughing way how she had vainly tried to coax her 
there that evening, and of her most mysterious refusal 
to appear ; but, on this sudden interruption, they, as 
well as every one else, turned toward the irregular 
young gentleman who seemed to claim their attention. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Ned briefl}", “ I have 
been looking very closely at the company this evening, 
and I believe that every one here present heard the 
conversation about Miss Denwitt that was held at the 
picnic last June. I am touching a very delicate sub- 
ject, I suppose, and I am sure I’d rather be kicked 
than say a word about it ; but I thought it was only 
justice to some people that something should be said. 
I simply want you to understand, that in this letter I 
am authorized by my brother, John Hildreth, to state 
fully and freely in his name, to whomsoever dare say 
the contrary, that instead of casting off Miss Denwitt, 
as some people assert, or slighting her affection, he 
loves her, and always has loved her, with the one love 
of his life ; that he feels honored in saying it ; and, 
far from considering such love a disgrace, he would be 
willing to proclaim it from the housetops ; furthermore, 
that Miss Denwitt herself, in all her life which has 
come to his knowledge, has acted like an honorable 
lady and saint as she is.” 

If the “saint” were an interpolation of Ned’s, it was 
his only one, and no one was the wiser. 

“ Well, Ned Hildreth, I hope you are satisfied with 
yourself now,” said his mother, in a tone of voice 
which was quite impenetrable. uj 


182 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 Perhaps you would like to read us the rest of your 
letter,” said Miss Lu. 44 1 have no doubt it is all 
equally interesting.” 

44 That’s so,” said Ned : 44 indeed, I think the other 
part the best.” 

An awkward silence fell upon the company, which no 
one seemed to have the power to break, until Ned once 
more rose abruptly from his chair, feeling his senses 
somewhat bewildered* 

44 1 think I’ll go out for a breath of air,” he said. 44 I’ll 
call for you with the carriage, mother.” 

44 1 should think you would need a breath of air,” she 
answered. And, as no one offered any objection to this, 
Ned took his hat and silently withdrew, having enjoyed 
quite enough of his cousins’ hospitality for a time. 

Of course, Ned’s little proceeding must of necessity 
produce some lasting effect. While, on the whole, it 
angered the Hildreth family, at the same time it set the 
minds of one or two others quite at rest on the subject 
which had so concerned them ; and, for the remainder 
of the summer, there were not so many scornful words 
repeated of Libby Denwitt. 

The time crept by very slowly that autumn, while 
day by day Libby grew stronger, and able to take more 
of the old care upon her shoulders ; so that life in itself 
seemed a new pleasure to her, — a something that was 
very sweet, even with only the little daily blessings. 
As she began to look upon herself and her life in this 
newer light, as belonging to her S.aviour, and only living 
to do his will, and take with a grateful heart whatever 
blessing he saw fit to send her, she learned to trust and 
love him more entirely, and felt her heart growing 
warmer toward the world around her. It was not so 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT. 


188 




much of a burden to see the friends who came to ask 
after her improvement; even Mrs. Horn became quite 
endurable, and the sight of two or three others was a 
positive joy to her. Ned Hildreth stopped in nearly 
every day, and tangled her spools of cotton while he 
retailed for her the latest news from the front; and 
Kate Telfair was the same dear friend she had always 
been, only nearer than ever before. 

And, besides these things, there was very little hap- 
pened to Libby in the close of the summer and in the 
autumn that followed, — only three things, perhaps, that 
she always remembered through the rest of her life; 
the one for the comfort of it, and for the train of pleas- 
ant consequences that came after ; another, for the sym- 
pathy and rest it brought to her heart ; and the last, for 
the anger and the penitence that came after. 

The first was this. All the while that Libby had 
lain up stairs, tossing with fever, and wearying herself 
with restlessness, and even after she was growing better 
day after day, Mr. Hilton had never failed to call every 
morning with some kind message or inquiry ; but, after 
the pretty red wrapper and its wearer first made their 
appearance by the sitting-room window, his visits had 
ceased entirely for a few days, so that even Martha, not 
understanding very much of human nature, thought it 
strange and unaccountable conduct in her pastor. But 
one morning after “ father ” had gone out for his walk, 
and while Martha was busy in the kitchen, a light car- 
riage which was new to Libby drove up at the front 
gate ; and Mr. Hilton himself alighted, and walked up 
the path. Libby put her head out between the sweet 
honeysuckle vines, and smiled him a good-morning, 
before he came up the steps, looking as though she were 


184 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


unfeignedly glad to see him. He came in for a few 
moments, and sat beside her, talking of her health and 
the weather with other more indifferent topics, until 
suddenly, on hearing Martha’s step in the entry, he told 
her why he had come. 

He had heard of her being able to come down stairs, 
and thought that perhaps she might be well enough to 
enjoy a little ride on such a delightful morning : would 
she try it? 

Libby longed for it sorely. She had been wishing so 
much lately that she might ride out into the country, 
and feel the fresh, pure air in her face : it seemed as if 
the very motion would do more than any thing else to 
cure her, and make her strong. But might she ? Her 
conscience was very tender in those days ; and she pon- 
dered the question carefully for a moment, re volying oyer 
this and that in her mind. After this instantaneous 
meditation, it seemed to her the very kindest and pleas- 
antest thing that she could do for them both, to ride out 
with her pastor on this beautiful autumn morning. He 
knew all about her, all her heart history ; more, of 
course, than any one knew but Martha. He knew that 
all these weeks of sickness and solitude would not have 
been likely to dim the memories in her heart. He came 
as a very kind friend to give her a little pleasure ; and, 
with the frankness of a friend, she might in all good 
conscience accept the pleasure, and be glad of it. 

So, before Martha had opened the door, she looked up 
with something like her old happy smile, and told him 
so. 

“ But you must wait until Martha gets me ready. 
I am so ridiculously weak and helpless yet, you see, I 
can’t do any thing but sit here and stitch a little now 
and then.” 


185 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT.” 

He looked down with a world of pity on the thin 
little hands that trembled even with such light work as 
that. 

“ Mr. Hilton ! why, you don’t tell ! ” said Martha. 
“ I’m glad you’ve managed to get here again. Eliza- 
beth’s looking a sight better, ain’t she ? ” 

He smiled. “ Indeed I hope so, Miss Denwitt ; but 
she certainly is looking much slighter than she did the 
last time I saw her.” 

But he thought in his heart, “ She is looking better, — 
quieter, and with more of the old brightness, and a new 
peace in her eyes ; a newer sweetness and gentleness, 
too, about her mouth ; even more worthy to be loved 
than ever before.” 

“ Law ! I forgot,” said Miss Martha. “ Of course, this 
is the first time you’ve seen her. She is slight and 
thin, there’s no mistake ; but then, dear, what was she 
a month ago ? ” 

“ Mr. Hilton is very kind, Martha,” said Libby. “ He 
wants me to ride with him this lovely morning ; and I 
have promised to go, if you will get me ready.” 

Martha entered into the plan with alacrity. She 
promised that Libby should be ready in ten minutes, 
and fully kept her promise. To be sure, she gave Mr. 
Hilton a dozen charges before they set out, — not to 
drive too fast, to be very sure that Libby kept her shawl 
close about her throat, and not on any account to stay 
away too long. But Libby, for one, entirely forgot the 
charges the moment she felt the cool morning air in her 
face, and saw the trees and the open country again. 
Every thing seemed to have been made over afresh for 
her own especial pleasure. 

“ You don’t know how happy you have made me, Mr. 


186 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Hilton,” she said. “ I don’t think there is any other 
little thing that could have pleased me so much as a 
ride.” 

He looked at her kindly, and gladly too. 

“ You needed it,” he answered. 44 I think, after one 
has been ill a long time, there is a certain stage in con- 
valescence where they are apt to keep stationary, unless 
they have some very vigorous coaxing. This will coax 
you a little, to begin with.” 

“ It makes me feel as if I were really getting well, 
Mr. Hilton.” 

“ It was a hard cross to keep quiet, and suffer so long ; 
was it not ? ” 

She looked out thoughtfully over the horse’s head for 
a few moments, and he waited for her answer. 

44 1 think it is almost worth while to be ill, very ill,” 
she said ; 44 for when you can lie quite still, day after 
day, with every one so kind to you, and have no temp- 
tations to speak of, I think it is so much easier to be 
good, and to keep one’s heart right.” 

44 Then if one has no temptations,” he answered her, 
smiling, 44 not even the temptation of wishing to be 
well, where is the conflict or the victory ? ” 

44 Yes, I see,” she said. 44 It was no conflict at all to 
me : just a resting and a waiting. But then, why does 
God send sickness at all to such as I ? ” She turned to 
him with a quick, inquiring glance. 

44 He sends it with a purpose always, and for our 
profit. If it was simply rest to you, and nothing more, 
be sure you needed the rest ; and I think you did ; but, 
when God gives rest, he gives it for a purpose.” 

44 Such as what ? ” 

44 Is it not to make us stronger and fresher to 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT.’ 


187 




work for him, when we have to go out in the world 
again ? ” 

“ And yet I thought there was no rest for the soldier 
of Christ this side of heaven, Mr. Hilton.” 

“ There never is complete rest, in one sense ; there 
never should be any from the inward conflict with sin 
and temptation.” 

“ Well,” she insisted, “ I don’t think it was very con- 
scious fighting with me.” 

“ Did your illness do you no good at all, Miss Libby ? 
Think a moment.” 

“ Yes, I think it did : I am very sure it did, only not 
in the way of fighting or struggling with myself. It 
taught me a good many lessons, and it made me see life 
with different eyes.” 

“ And what do you think of life now ? ” he asked. 

She looked up, as if half doubting what to answer. 

“ What did you think of it before, Miss Libby ? ” 

“ It seemed to me a desert, or, at the very best, a con- 
tinuous battle-field. There was only one comfort at all, 
— that my Lord loved me, and that some day soon he 
would let me go home.” 

“ Ah ! it was homesickness, then, — a disgust of the 
world, my friend. But what do you think now of your 
life ? or would you rather not have me put such trouble- 
some questions ? ” 

“ No, they are not troublesome : it helps me to talk 
to you. Now I see some flowers in the desert ; and I’m 
willing to live, and take what blessings or sorrows God 
sees fit to send me, — willing just to have him keep 
me.” 

He smiled very tenderly upon her : they had at least 
this much between them, Libby Denwitt and himself, 


188 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


that they each had their portion beyond this little world, 
and were willing to trust God for the rest. 

“ And then,” he asked, “ when you felt that Christ 
was all, and wished he would take you home, and now 
when you feel that Christ is all, and yet are willing to 
stay where he bids you, have you never thought, that, 
without finding flowers for yourself, you might pull up 
weeds, and find rare flowers too, for him ? ” 

44 How ? ” she asked quickly. 

44 You know, Libby my friend, that for thirty-three 
years he chose the thorns, and left the flowers for you 
and me. I mean this : Did it never seem to you that 
this world might be more, even, than a battle-ground, 
— a harvest-field, where every one must work their 
best for him while the day lasts ? ” 

44 But how? ” she questioned. 44 How can I work ? ” 

44 There is so much to be done in this world, you 
know. And, since the Lord has counted his sorrows 
light for our sakes, we should not count any labor or 
cross heavy for him.” 

44 But, Mr. Hilton, I don’t want to spare myself : truly 
I don’t. What is there that I can do ? I am ready.” 

44 Then that is all you need,” he answered with a 
smile. 44 God will show you. When St. Paul fell on 
his face, crying, ‘Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?’ 
the work and the way were both made very plain to 
him. It is the willing mind, which is ready for all things, 
that has the blessing.” 

44 And you can’t give me any work, Mr. Hilton? ” she 
asked, after a few moments. 

He turned, laughing softly, and looked in her face, as 
he spoke of an old subject of contention between them. 

44 1 can give you a class in sabbath school, Miss Libby : 


189 


“SONGS IN THE NIGHT.” 

there is a vacant one which I think is meant especially 
for yon.” 

She drew down the corners of her mouth ruefully for 
a moment, then looked up with a thoroughly penitent 
face. “ I will take it just as soon as I am strong enough, 
Mr. Hilton,” she said. 

“ Thank you ! that is a beginning : I think the path 
will open to you after that.” 

“ But why do you thank me?” she asked. 

He looked at her quietly for a moment or two, and 
then answered, “ Partly for my Master’s sake, and 
partly because I think the work will bring its own 
reward to yourself, my little friend.” 

They were silent for some time after this ; and, when 
the conversation was renewed, it related to quite other 
matters. But, though Libby had many rides with Mr. 
Hilton that fall, the impression left by the first one 
never quite wore away, nor the consequences to herself 
that followed. 


190 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

GUARD-DUTY. 

T HE next thing that Libby remembered so tena- 
ciously had to do with Ned Hildreth, and the last 
day of his college vacation. She had seen him very 
often during the warm August weather. He had not 
only come at stated periods to disarrange her work- 
basket, and tangle her spools of cotton ; but they had 
taken pleasant walks in the woods together, gathering 
ferns for hanging-baskets, and bits of mineral for Ned’s 
geological studies. Then, too, it was through Ned, and 
him alone, that she heard of all the military movements, 
and learnt the latest news from the “ front.” Doubtless 
both of them were thinking of one person while the 
talk went on ; though neither of them mentioned his 
name, excepting now and then, when Ned would say, 
looking at her closely, “ I think John must have been 
in that engagement, Libby. I suppose, if he comes out 
all right, we shall hear in a day or two.” Then, if the 
expected letter came, perhaps he would mention it, 
when they next talked over these matters together; 
telling her that John was alive, or perhaps merely that 
he had been in the action. 

But one cool, pleasant September morning, when 
Libby had just finished putting the sitting-room in 
order, Ned came in upon her suddenly, to state that he 


GUARD DUTY. 


191 


was off for college early the next morning ; ancl that 
consequently she must put on her hat, and walk down 
to Marsey’s woods with him. “ Hang the bed-making 
and all that,” he said : a fellow couldn’t play always, 
and he wanted to play just then. So, as Martha raised 
no objection, Libby donned her sun-bonnet, pocketed 
her crochet-work, and started off for a half-holiday. 

The woods were dainty and cool that morning. 
There had been very little dew, and the sun had almost 
dried it already. The summer flowers were nearly 
gone ; but there was a plenty of golden-rod and lobelia, 
and even field-daisies here and there, which Libby 
pulled as she went along, with no distinct purpose, 
except that they were fresh and pretty, and it pleased 
her to look at them. But at length Ned made a sug- 
gestion : wouldn’t she see whether her love loved her, 
or no ? 

She turned to him with a little saucy air, which yet 
had more sadness than fun about it, and tossed the 
daisies away. 

She needed no flowers, she said, to prove that her 
love was true. 

Ned gave a little, low whistle. 

“ Sit down on this old mossy trunk, most complacent 
Queen Elizabeth,” he said. “ It isn’t every one that’s so 
fortunate and easy in their minds. But let’s rest awhile, 
and be sociable. Don’t you dare, as you value your 
peace, to lay a finger on that ubiquitous old knitting. 
See, let me fold up your shawl for a cushion. Now 
are you cheerful and serene ? ” 

“ Quite serene,” she answered. “ But, Ned, I didn’t 
know you were going away so soon.” 

“Neither did I, exactly; but the sovereign lady, my 


192 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


mamma, wants to look about New Haven a bit, before 
the term begins, and takes me with her. For my part, 
I’d rather prowl about Southcliff; but it’s little odds, 
for a week.” 

“ I sha’n’t have any one to tell me the news, when 
you are gone, Ned.” 

“ It’s exceedingly flattering to a fellow’s feelings, to 
be regretted as a newsmonger. It’s so generous and 
whole-hearted of you too.” 

Libby laughed, with the tears standing in her eyes. 

“ I didn’t mean that,” she said, “ unless you choose 
to take it so.” 

“ I have a little news for you, this morning ; South- 
cliff is gossiping over it, — poor stupid, dozing old 
Southcliff. But you are always a week behind the age, 
poor little Lib.” 

“ Well, what is it?” she asked, folding her hands on 
her knees. 

“Oh! some slight skirmish only, at — let me see — 
it’s only a little place ; some creek, or court-house, with 
a high-sounding name ; nothing that amounts to much, 
even with editorial exaggerations.” 

“ Who won, Ned ? ” 

He shook his head doubtfully. 

“ 1 There's some say that we wan , 

And some say that they wan , 

And some say that nane wan , 

At a' mon ' 

“ But the rebs are gaining strength, Libby.” 

“Will it last much longer?” she asked, thinking, 
with a shudder, of the one soul who represented the 
whole army to her. 


GUARD DUTY. 


193 


u Can’t say, not having second sight.” 

“ Why don’t you go, Ned ? ” 

“I’ve half a mind, sometimes, to throw the books 
overboard, and be off.” 

“I would if I were you,” said this stanch little 
patriot. 

“ You, indeed, Miss Denwitt ! Why, actually I’m 
surprised at your cheek, little Lib, when you couldn’t 
even spare a half-hour to cheer the boys away. I looked 
for your face under every sun-bonnet at the depot ; and, 
I declare, every sun-bonnet in town was there but 
yours.” 

Libby turned red, then pale. 

“ Still I might be the first to go, if I were a man,” 
she said. 

“ I hope you wouldn’t blush at a rebel musket, as 
you do at my well-meant accusation,” he answered 
dryly. 

“ I couldn’t go that morning, Ned.” 

“ Martha left too much dusting and sweeping to be 
done ? ” 

“ You may take it so, if you like.” 

“ But I don’t like to take it so. I’m your most hum- 
ble page and cavalier: tell me.” 

“It would have been unnecessary pain,” she an- 
swered. 

His face grew grave directly. 

“ Yes, I see ; pain for some friend who was go- 
ing.” 

“ If you like : why not for a score of them ? How 
you are scanning my face, Ned ! is that polite or cour- 
teous? You may be a Launcelot some day, but you 
certainly never were meant for a Gawain.” 

17 


194 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Still answer me honestly one question,” lie said. 
“ Did John bid you good-by before he left? ” 

“ What an irrelevant question ! ” said Libby. “ Did 
he need to go all over Southcliff, saying good-by to old 
friends ? ” 

But Ned seized both her hands, and looked straight 
in her eyes. 

“It seems to me, if I am not mistaken, he would 
need to say good-by to you, Libby.” 

Her lip quivered then, and the tears gathered in her 
eyes ; for she felt so bound to Ned by their common 
faith, and the brotherly sympathy he showed for her 
always, that she was never quite her own brave self in 
his presence. And when, at sight of her tears, he 
dropped her hands, and begged pardon with a queer 
off-hand humbleness, she answered very gently, “ Yes, 
Ned, he bade me good-by.” 

And the memory of the way in which it had been 
done, with passionate kisses, and close clasping of 
hands, was almost too much for her self-control. She 
turned away her head, and her own two hands clasped 
each other tightly in her lap. 

“ Dear little Libby ! ” cried Ned. “ I beg your pardon 
a hundred times, and I declare I’d like to choke myself. 
I’m a great awkward bear : you must not mind me. But 
there are some things that really seem so tremendously 
out of order in this stupid old world, a fellow aches to 
set them right.” 

“ The world is not stupid : it is a beautiful pleasant 
world,” she said, smiling; “and every thing is being 
ordered far better than you could do it.” 

“ Oh, yes ! But the jogs and jars of the old rumb- 
ling thing, or the people on it, hurt my nerves. There’s 


GTTABD DUTY. 


195 


John. I couldn’t spell him backwards or forewards 
before he went away : when he wasn’t making an 
absurd attempt at cheerfulness, he was positively savage. 
It’s an old well-proven adage, that there’s always- a 
woman at the bottom of every trouble, you know. 
There, absolve me, Queen Elizabeth, and I’ll strain 
every nerve to be more courteous.” 

He fell on one knee before her, and just touched his 
lips to her tightly clenched little hands. 

“ Shall we go pick some more daisies, off yonder ? ” 
he asked. 

“ Wait a moment, Ned,” she cried, with a little gasp- 
ing sob : “ you mustn’t think I have done wrong by 
John, or trifled with his love ; for I love him so, it 
seemed to me it was harder than death to give him up.” 

And when, trembling like a leaf, she bowed her head 
on her knees, all Ned’s heart seemed to turn toward 
her with a great sense of pity and love, as if he had 
really been her brother. He drew her head into his 
arms, and tried, by all the little caressing ways of which 
his careless boy-nature was capable, to soothe and quiet 
her passionate weeping. He called her his sister, his 
poor little sister Libby, his dear sister that might have 
been ; and all the time she sobbed out her heart on his 
shoulder. 

“ O Ned ! we were going different ways, you know : 
it couldn’t be. Truly as I loved him, I loved my Mas- 
ter best, I did indeed.” 

“Was that it, Libby?” he asked quickly: “was that 
the only reason ? ” 

“ Yes,” she answered, “ how could there be another ? 
and was not that enough ? ” Any other reason, any pos- 
sible opposition, had never presented itself to her mind. 


196 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


All opposition, it seemed to her, would have been easily 
won over. 

Ned looked grave and troubled, seeing the case with 
other eyes than Libby’s. To him it would have seemed 
a very small matter, that she herself should have under- 
taken John’s salvation, instead of sending him adrift on 
the world. 

“ You’re a brave little soldier,” he said ; 44 but aren’t 
you doing a little bit of needless fighting on your own 
account ? ” 

44 Don’t you go against me,” she cried. 44 O Ned! I 
thought you would see it just as I do ; and it was your 
own mother who first opened my eyes to the need of it, 
and tried to show me how wrong it would be for me to 
yield. I didn’t thank her then. I thought every one 
was hard and cruel, who tried to take my happiness 
from me ; but now that I have grown quiet, and can 
see things with clearer eyes, I think 1 ought to thank 
them all.” 

44 My mother ! did my mother do that, Libby ? ” cried 
Ned, starting back aghast. 44 Why, John would never 
forgive her.” 

44 You needn’t tell him,” she answered quietly. 

44 But, Libby, you are right, I know you must be 
right, and I’ll never go back on you; but don’t you 
see, Libby, John may be shot any day : he may be dead 
even now.” 

44 Yes, I know,” she answered, turning away her head. 

44 He has been in nearly all the battles, Libby ; he 
will be in the thick of it all along: it’s like enough 
we’ll none of us ever see him again.” 

44 Ned, I think we had better go home now,” she 
answered. 


GUARD DUTY. 


197 


“ There ! yon are vexed with me. What can a fellow 
do ? But won’t yon send him just one little message 
by me ? ” 

She shook her head. 

“ You don’t know how much good it might do, Libby : 
why, it might be just the word in season. Let me tell 
him that you love him still : a little earthly love goes 
a long way toward bringing the other sometimes.” 

“ J ust one little word,” Libby’s own heart repeated, 
proving traitor to itself. “ Just one little word, even if 
it is parleying with wrong.: this is such a desperate 
case, and it won’t do much harm to give the enemy 
such small vantage-ground as that : you can regain it 
very quickly. Only one little loving word to comfort 
him.” 

“ It will do him a world of good, Libby, and he won’t 
presume upon it, I assure you. I know John well 
enough for that.” 

“ I can pray for him always,” she answered weakly ; 
“ and that will do him more good than all my words.” 
But, as she said it, all the strength of her heart seemed 
yielding, — all her power to bear and suffer and resign. 
If she gave this much, then why not all the rest ? why 
should she struggle any more ? why must her life be 
barren and desolate, when others had the sunshine and 
the glory? If he died, would this be too great comfort, 
to feel that she might mourn for him ? 

So she rested on her arms, and looked off to the ene- 
my’s country, which was wondrously fair, — yellow corn- 
fields and ripened grain, sloping of hill and valley, with 
broad rivers and endless sunshine. What then ? only 
the laying down of her arms for a while, the half- 
surrender of one feeble soldier, and she might “ enter in 

17 * 


198 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


and possess the land.” Then, if the clouds should come, 
she would have had a glimpse of the beauty. But was 
this the land of promise ? 

If she yielded in "ever so small a degree, the message 
would be sent, and John would gather from it a broader 
meaning than the words would give, and would take her 
back straightway to his heart. What then ? it would 
be a dear comfort to them both ; there would be letters, 
long heart-full letters, in which she would try, oh ! very 
earnestly, to win him to her Saviour ; there would be 
tender thoughts and memories of each other; John 
would go into battle solaced and made strong in the 
thought that she cared for him. And the end of it all 
would be ? Why, John would die any way : she was 
very sure that he would either die in battle, or was dead 
alread}r ; and, after she heard of that, she could mourn 
for him with a quiet heart, and no one would have been 
the worse, but rather much the better. For she would 
not marry John, but only hold him as her dearest 
friend. 

How very fair it seemed, off in the enemy’s country ! 
and how weary she felt with the strife ! 

“ Come Libby, what shall the message be ? That you 
love him still, and shall always love him ? This is a 
small bone to throw to a poor starving dog of a soldier.” 

“ Wait a moment,” she said : “ will you get me some 
of that red lobelia down by the brook, and then come 
back?” 

When he was gone, she threw herself down on the 
moss-grown log, and cried aloud in her misery, — 

“ O Lord, help me ! make the way quite plain for 
me, that I cannot fail to see it.” 

And this Captain never leaves the humblest soldier to 


GUARD DUTY. 


109 


fight or keep guard alone. “In that he himself hath 
suffered, being tempted, he is able to succor them that 
are tempted.” When they cry he answers, in one way 
or another. 

There came to Libby’s mind these words of good old 
St. Paul : — 

“Take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye 
may be able to withstand in the evil day ; ” and, “ Be 
ye strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ; 
for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake 
thee.” 

“ I knew it wouldn’t be right,” she sobbed, “ I knew 
it wouldn’t be right ; but, oh ! I wanted it so, be strong 
for me.” 

“Well, Libby,” said Ned, “here we are, red lobelias 
and all : what is the message to be ? ” 

“ Sit down a moment,” she answered, “ and listen to 
me. Do you know, I believe I was set to do guard duty 
this morning, — to guard my own heart. I was near 
failing signally.” 

“ What is all this, Libby? ” 

“ Do you remember the soldier whom Napoleon found 
sleeping at his post, and how the emperor’s heart was 
touched? Instead of condemning him as a faithless 
and unworthy soldier, and passing him over to death, 
he took his musket, and stood guard in his place. What 
should I do, if it were not for the forbearance and long- 
suffering of my King, who has been tempted and weary 
as well as I? I sha’n’t send a message, Ned, — not one 
word; because for me, just here, it would be a base 
yielding to temptation, sleeping after my Lord had 
touched me and bade me watch. God will keep both 
of us, your brother and me. I always do and always 
will pray for him. And, Ned ” — 


200 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Yes, Libby.” 

“I shall do just the same, no matter what you think 
of me ; but please don’t blame me, or feel any bitter- 
ness toward me, — not you. I thought, because you and 
I are going the same way together, that you would see 
it all very plainly, and pity me.” 

Ned threw himself on the ground beside her, and 
gently touched her hand with his lips, in a truly rever- 
ent and penitent fashion. 

44 And so I do, poor little Libby ! ” he said. 44 1 think 
you are right, always right, God bless you ! but — well, 
I shall never say a word to blame you, dear : I shall 
always have a little shrine for you in my own heart, and 
canonize you to myself, — but it is hard on John, poor 
fellow ! ” 

44 Oh, don’t ! you mustn’t ! ” she cried, with an over- 
whelming sense of her own weakness : 44 a saint ! oh, it’s 
dreadful.” 

44 But the saint is not dreadful at all.” 

44 Can’t you help me, Ned ? can’t you and I help each 
other, when the hard things come? ” 

44 With all my heart : I wish we could.” 

44 And, Ned ” — 

44 Yes.” 

44 I think you could do so much for John, since you 
write to him all the time.” 

44 1 can’t preach, Libby.” 

44 No, not preach, but just a word now and then for 
Jesus’ sake, if just to let him know what part you 
have taken.” 

44 No fear but he knows that. I’m not one to hide my 
colors, little Lib, any more than John is.” 

44 But isn’t it hiding our colors — I speak for myself 


GUARD DUTY. 


201 


too — when we are afraid of saying a good word for 
our cause ? ” 

Ned was silent a moment. 

“ I believe you are right, Libby,” he answered. 44 I'll 
keep it in mind.” 

44 Now I think we had better go home.” 

“ And you — you are as firm as a rock, and as gentle 
as a breeze, you jolly little soldier,” said Ned, tossing 
her shawl over his arm. 44 What ever are you made of, 
any way ? ” 

44 Only of the 4 dust of the ground,’ ” she answered, 
laughing, 44 and just as weak as the weakest of it. But 
you know where our strength is, Ned.” 

A light came into his frank, boyish eyes. 

44 Libby,” he said in a moment, 44 I’ve been imperti- 
nent and unbearable this morning. I wonder if you 
forgive me ? ” 

44 I’ve nothing in the world against you,” she an- 
swered. 

44 I’m going to write to you, when I get back to New 
Haven, Libby. Will you show how completely you 
absolve me by writing back ? I mean to tell you every 
thing, unburden my mind, and score up all my sins, — 
make a sort of periodical confession, you see. That’s 
one way you can help me . You mustn’t frown when I 
get into scrapes : they’re the way of the world out 
there : just write back a kind, sisterly sort of a letter, 
to set a fellow on his feet again. Will you do so much 
for the sake of old fellowship, but more especially of 
new friendship, Libby ? ” 

44 And, more than all, for the sake of a common bond 
of sympathy, and a common calling? Yes, indeed I 
will, Ned,” she answered, smiling, 44 and I don’t think 


202 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


you will find fault with what I have to say to 
you.” 

The next morning Mrs. Hildreth and Ned left for 
New Haven, and after that Libby was conscious of a 
blank, creeping into the days. It was not that she had 
any less to do, or any less kindness from those about 
her ; but, besides missing a friend, she sorely missed the 
news which had come to her daily from the Hildreth 
newspapers. John might be wounded in these silent, 
unmarked days, when nothing came to her from the 
outer world ; he might be even dead and buried, without 
a rumor of it reaching her. This made a portion of the 
blank, — this room for imagination, this thought that, 
all the time while she was longing for the right to love 
him, he might be lying defaced and still, under sun and 
dew and rain, on some Southern battle-field ; or that he 
might be tossing with fever and pain, when she, who 
would be so glad to carry him even a drink of bold 
water, could not see or know. Sometimes, yes, all the 
time , she tried to put this subject from her mind, and to 
busy herself with other things and other friends ; but 
often she found this an almost impossible task. While 
her mind was in this state of commotion, Mrs. Hildreth 
returned from New Haven. Libby was in the village 
on some marketing errand when the train came in, and 
the lady alighted from it with her satchel and travelling- 
shawl. Acting on the impulse of the moment, Libby 
scanned her a little more closely than politeness would 
warrant, longing to look through and through her, 
beyond the fine airs and graces, and discover, if she 
might, something decisive in the shape of news. But, 
Mrs. Hildreth’s elegant travelling-dress refusing to reveal 
any secrets, Libby was turning away with her basket, 
when she felt a hand laid lightly on her arm. 


GUARD DUTY. 


203 


“Miss Libby, my dear! I am pleased to see you. 
Such a close, tiresome day it is, and you look very much 
heated. My carriage will be waiting around the other 
side of the depot : pray be so gracious as to ride up with 
me.” 

“ Thank you, Mrs. Hildreth : you are very kind, but 
I prefer walking,” said Libby a little stiffly. 

“ Pray don’t put on those pretty little airs, my dear. 
No one prefers to walk when they can ride, I am sure. 
Duff shall leave you at your own gate, and I want ex- 
ceedingly to have a little talk with you. Will you come, 
and oblige me?” 

Libby hesitated for still a moment longer, then turned 
very reluctantly, and followed Mrs. Hildreth to the 
carriage. 

“ Well, it is good to get home,” said the lady with a 
tired little sigh, nestling back in the cushions ; “ it is 
very good to be home.” 

“ Did you have a pleasant time in New Haven ? ” 
asked Libby absently. 

“ Pleasant ? Oh, yes ! as pleasant as could be ex- 
pected.” 

“ It is a pleasant place, I think ? ” asked Libby, by 
way of making a little conversation. 

“ New Haven ? Oh, yes ! a delightful place, without 
doubt ; full of delightful people too. But my mind 
was greatly pre-occupied, and I went chiefly on business.” 

“ You left Ned quite well ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! Ned is always well,” Mrs. Hildreth an- 
swered with a sigh. “ I think my next little jaunt will 
be in another direction, Miss Libby. I have a strong 
desire to look after John’s welfare. We have not heard 
from him for the last week, and I’m fearful he may be 


204 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


in trouble. If so, it’s poor living in a hospital, with no 
one in especial to care for your wants. I want to go 
and see for myself how matters stand.” 

44 You will go soon ? ” asked Libby with eager eyes, 
and a wildly throbbing heart. 

44 In a week, perhaps ; sooner, if I don’t hear in the 
mean time. I want to set my mind at rest as to whether 
he will be well cared for in case of an accident or sick- 
ness ; so, even if he has no need of me at present, I 
shall make it a point to go through the hospitals. How- 
ever, I have a few home matters to attend to first. How 
sweetly the mown hay smells, my dear ! ” 

44 Yes’m, very sweet,” Libby answered mechanically, 
thinking her own thoughts meanwhile ; 44 summer is 
quite over now.” 

44 Quite over. It has been an eventful summer to 
some of us ; but young people readily forget, and what 
a happy talent it is ! ” She turned to tap Libby play- 
fully on the cheek. 44 Youth is a delightful time, my 
dear.” 

44 1 don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Hildreth.” 

44 1 presume not. I notice this is likewise a talent of 
yours, my dear, never to understand. But, my child, 
you and I have not had an opportunity for a real good 
talk since so much has happened to us both. I have 
endeavored several times to see you in private ; but it 
has been, I may say, an impossible thing.” 

44 1 don’t see the need for any private conversation 
between us, Mrs. Hildreth,” said Libby, flushing crim- 
son : 44 it seems to me too much has been said already.” 

44 There you go, off at a tangent again. My dear 
child, your caprices may be very pretty, but one must 
have a large stock of benevolence to bear with them 


GUARD DUTY. 


205 


sometimes. I wanted to tell you, Miss Libby, that I 
feel I owe you so much, after the pain I have caused 
you through inadvertence, that I would be willing to 
do a great deal to give you any pleasure.” 

44 Thank you, Mrs. Hildreth,” she answered : 44 1 don’t 
need any pleasure, I assure you.” 

44 Need no pleasure ! how absurd, my child ! Every 
one needs pleasure, in my way of thinking, if only as a 
rest.” 

44 Even church-members ? ” asked Libby a little bit- 
terly, giving vent for a moment to the tumult at her 
heart. 

Mrs. Hildreth looked at her in amazement. 

44 W ell, perhaps I deserve your recriminations,” she 
answered presently ; 44 but, when one has meant kindly, 
it certainly is not pleasant to be met in such a manner. 
I really think you have need of some pleasure, to judge 
from your pale cheeks, and I really meant to give it to 
you. If you like better, we will call it recreation .” 

44 1 have always heard, Mrs. Hildreth, that Pleasure 
is coy : she flies if she is too ardently wooed.” 

44 A very pretty conceit, but not quite applicable, I 
think. Ah ! here comes our good friend Mr. Hilton, 
an excellent man. Will he not be a little vexed, Miss 
Libby, to see you riding with any one else than himself? 
These men are so hard to please ! ” 

Mrs. Hildreth’s light, musical laugh grated harshly 
on Libby’s ear. 

44 You would oblige me very much by not making 
such remarks, Mrs. Hildreth,” she said. 

44 But every one else must make them, my love ; and 
I’m sure the good man does not deserve that you should 
be ashamed of him, even if he should have stepped 
18 


206 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


into John’s place. There ! don’t be vexed, dear child. 
Why, what a temper you have, to be sure ! I’m afraid 
you don’t put a very strong check on vour angry pas- 
sions, Miss Libby.” 

Libby bit her lip in troubled silence. 

“ Now, for my part, I feel very kindly toward you, 
my dear; and, as I said before, it would really delight 
me to give you any pleasure. Let us see — just at this 
time there seems a lull between summer and winter ; 
couldn’t you come and make me a little visit, that I 
may prove to you how really in earnest I am ? ” 

“ It would be quite impossible,” Libby returned. 

“ Impossible ! and why ? Couldn’t Miss Martha spare 
you for a week, at least ? ” 

“ I suppose she could spare me, Mrs. Hildreth ; but 
the visit would be no pleasure either to you or me : so 
it is better never made.” 

“ Ah, indeed ! outspoken and brusque as ever. Of 
course, I cannot contend with such a sentiment as this. 
If you are not desirous of my company, I won’t force it 
upon you. But I am truly sorry, Miss Libby, that you 
should show such a spirit toward me, — such an unlova- 
ble spirit, I might call it. Ah ! here is your own gate, 
I see. It certainly is not my fault, dear child, if we 
can’t be friends.” 

“ Oh ! I’ll take all the blame,” said Libby, “ if it 
comes to that;” after which she rushed headlong to her 
own room, threw herself on the bed, and indulged in a 
hearty burst of tears. 

But when this rain-shower had cleared her mental 
atmosphere, and relief came from her tears, then peni- 
tence came also. In the depths of her proud, passionate 
heart, she felt both sorry and ashamed for the part she 


GUARD DUTY. 


207 


had taken. It was all easy enough to do right when 
the way lay straight before her, and no one came to vex 
or weary her ; but, when she did have a really hard bit 
of duty given her to do, she found herself quite unpre- 
pared, and bent on failure. This time she had not only 
failed, but had cast scorn and reproach upon the Mas- 
ter’s cause. 

Repentance always followed fast upon her back- 
sliding ; and, feeling that she had sinned grievously, she 
first prayed with all her heart to be forgiven, then tried 
what she could to repair the wrong she had done. 

And the result was this : that same evening Mrs. 
Hildreth received a humble, penitent little note, telling 
how very sorry was the writer of it to have grieved and 
repulsed that most gracious lady, and asking as a special 
favor, that she might be allowed to change her mind, 
and to spend some day very soon in her society. Only 
she would beg, as a very great favor, that all personal 
conversation between them might for that one day be 
dropped. 

The kindest of little notes came in return, asking 
Miss Libby to come the very next day, if she could 
make it convenient ; stating further, that the carriage 
should stop for her very early in the morning, and that 
no objectionable topic of any sort whatever should be 
so much as broached between them. 


208 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


GARRISON SERVICE. 



HAT autumn and winter were quiet ones in South- 


cliff, very much like the autumns and winters that 
had gone before them, bearing no special pleasures with 
them, and leaving no lasting memories behind. The 
leaves turned golden and russet by the roadside as 
They had done every year at the setting-in of frost ; and 
the mountains fairly blazed with grandeur and beauty, — 
a fleeting, shadowy beauty, which vanished when the 
first snowstorm had touched it. Then the snow brought 
a fairer beauty of its own, weird and mystical, which 
made the mountains and the valley seem like an en- 
chanted world, — a world hushed in slumber, and dead- 
ened to all sound of the noise and tumult beyond. 

It seemed to Libby a very ghostly world. 

There was coasting that winter, — such coasting as 
had not been known before since they all were children 
together ; but it seemed a very mockery to Libby now, 
when she heard the village children exulting in the 
enjoyment which it brought them. 

In the early autumn, before the leaves had begun to 
turn, Mrs. Hildreth had received a letter in a strange 
handwriting, stating that her son had been wounded 
quite seriously at Wilson’s Creek, in August, and was 
lying in the hospital at Springfield, in a very low state ; 
which might mean life — or death. 


GARRISON SERVICE. 


209 


The letter had been long in reaching her ; but Mrs. 
Hildreth was not long in acting upon the news it con- 
tained. The very next morning she started southward, 
in the earliest train ; and this was the last news concern- 
ing her that Southcliff had heard. The very next night 
after she left, heavy clouds rose over the mountains, a 
dreary north-east gale swept through the valley, and 
whistled around the chimney-tops and house-corners, 
and in the morning the equinoctial was fairly upon 
them. It lasted a long, dreary week. The third day, a 
freshet set in ; bridges and barns were swept away ; and 
for days no news whatever was brought to Southcliff 
ears. People grew tired of asking for it. 

This was a bitter time to Libby, until she had learnt 
to trust it, as well as all the rest of her life, in stronger 
hands than hers. 

And, indeed, she had other interests now to fill a 
place in her heart, and to help her to bear those white, 
lifeless days of the snowstorms. Little by little, as she 
put her hand to the harvest work, it grew in size and 
importance, and claimed still more of her time and 
thoughts. At first, when she had gone according to 
promise, so soon as her strength permitted, to take the 
class which Mr. Hilton thought was waiting for her, 
she had done so in the listless, absent way which of 
late she had shown in every thing, — every thing except- 
ing those great struggles which called for all her energy 
and strength. These had seemed to leave her hands 
helpless and weak for any thing else. 

The class of little girls that sat waiting for her that 
beautiful sabbath morning was not one — taking them 
all in all — in the least calculated to win a teacher’s 
heart at first sight, whatever they might become in the 
future. 


210 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


First, there was Peggy Horn, — square and angular 
like her mother, with staring black eyes, and a stolid, 
obstinate indifference to all authority ; a little nature 
that clung tenaciously to the ancient landmarks and 
traditions, that positively refused to believe or admit 
any “ new thing under the sun.” If father or mother 
or the primer had said a thing was so, so it must 
remain; and nothing in Holy Writ, or the sayings of the 
wisest men who ever breathed, could alter for a moment 
that first decree. She would sit and listen to an argu- 
ment with wide-open eyes, until you thought her thor- 
oughly convinced of its truth ; and in the end she would 
shake her head, and say, “ But ’tain’t so, after all.” She 
was a thoroughly mechanical child, not only in the rat- 
tling-off of her reading, of which her mother had 
boasted, but in every thing else as well. 

Then there was Susy Douglass, Clem’s sister by 
nature as well as by birth, — a flighty, restless child, with 
peering gray eyes that were always busy in some other 
class than her own, and little nervous fingers, eagerly 
bent on any mischief that presented itself in her way. 
She would giggle unblushingly behind her Bible, and 
when you pulled down the Bible, and looked at her, 
would meet your gaze as soberly as though she had 
never laughed in her life. Libby thought at first that 
it would be quite impossible ever to fix her attention for 
a moment. 

Then there was quarrelsome Nellie Brown, who never 
could find the right seat by just the right little girl, and 
who had a troublesome trick of pinching and poking all 
those who were not the right ones. 

There was Mary Mitchell, with very soft pretty blue 
eyes, and abundance of auburn hair, who continually 


GARRISON SERVICE. 


211 


told malicious little tales of the others, — how Nellie 
Brown peeped in her Bible when she said her lesson, 
how Susy Douglass tickled her ear, and Peggy Horn 
called her names. This little girl always wanted a seat 
by her teacher, where she could fawn upon her, caress 
her hand, and give her pet terms of endearment while 
she talked to them ; but, after school was over, she 
would tell the first one she met, what a disagreeable, 
cross old teacher she had, and how she wished she could 
get out of the class into some pleasanter one. ♦ 

There was Clara Telfair, last of all, but first with 
Libby, — a little girl of whom she had been fond all her 
life, but who nevertheless was not an easy scholar to 
teach. Every one admits that very small children have 
a talent for asking very difficult questions; but this little 
girl seemed to be unusually gifted in that direction. 
She kept her little tongue in perpetual motion, while 
the others were laughing and quarrelling among them- 
selves. She propounded queries that never before had 
entered Libby’s remotest thoughts, and which kept her 
busy all the week searching through commentaries and 
books of reference. 44 What did he do that for ? ” and, 
44 Where do you suppose he went after that, Miss Den- 
witt ? ” or, 44 What made God let that happen ? ” or, 
44 Why didn’t God stop this ? ” were some of the most 
ordinary forms. But every sabbath there would come 
numberless other deep propositions, which should rather 
have entered into an older head than hers, and which 
made it seem to Libby, that little Clara spent all her 
week-day time in' arranging difficult problems for the 
sabbath. 

At first, having no experience in sabbath-school teach- 
ing, she felt herself involved in quite a labyrinth of 


212 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


doubts and difficulties ; but gradually, as she sought for 
a better strength than her own, the feeling of perplexity 
passed away, and she entered with her w T hole heart into 
the spirit of her harvest work. She felt that the first 
thing in teaching her class was, to win the love of the 
children ; and she was not long in taking this first step. 
It made her very happy when a little outward improve- 
ment was reached, — when Susy would listen to her five 
minutes at a time without leaning over into the next 
class, when Nellie passed a whole hour without pinch- 
ing or poking the others, and when Peggy Horn took 
a statement on the authority of the Bible without refer- 
ence to the primer. 

It seemed to Libby that Mr. Hilton must have known 
just what difficult work he was giving her, when he 
asked her to take this troublesome little class. With- 
out doubt he did ; and without doubt, too, it was one of 
the best things that could have happened to her ; for 
apart from the good she accomplished, and the real 
pleasure she found in doing some little thing, however 
small, for her Master, it did good to her own self by 
leading her to think less of her own sorrow, and more 
of the interests of those about her, who had need of 
love and help. 

There was other work came to her too, while she was 
being fitted for it. She had often wondered what else 
she could do, or whom of all those around her she could 
influence for Christ ; and the number had seemed very 
small. One day, however, — one cold, crisp day in ' 
December, — when she took her first sleigh-ride with 
Mr. Hilton, he had put a query in her head as they 
were driving slowly home at twilight. 

“Miss Libby,” he said, “you see a good deal of 
Clemantha Douglass, don’t you ? ” 


GARRISON SERVICE. 


213 


“ Quite a good deal — yes,” she answered ; “ why ? 
Clem and I have always been good friends, Mr. Hilton.” 

“ I know ; and why ? Why, because she is one of 
my flock ; and it has seemed to me lately, that a very 
little thing would touch her heart : yet I seem to have 
failed.” 

“ And you want me to help you ? ” she asked falter- 
ingly. 

“ I thought you would like to help me ; that is it.” 

“ I feel very helpless, Mr. Hilton, but I love Clem 
dearly. I will pray for her, and ask for help that I may 
say some little* word to her perhaps; for indeed I am 
afraid I have done very wrong to think so little of her 
before, and to set her so poor an example.” 

This set Libby’s thoughts busily at work, and her 
conscience was not quite at rest. What was this work 
which God had placed right at her door, and to which 
she had not given a thought or a look? Was she 
entirely blameless in his sight ? 

The very next evening there was a Dorcas meeting at 
Mrs. Eli Marsey’s, for the Dorcas meetings were held 
regularly now that cold weather had fairly set in. They 
were pleasant, merry meetings too, even without a large 
share of the masculine element. There was certainly 
no lack of tongues or fingers ; for the congregation came 
in sleighs, some of them from five and six miles away. 
They thought it only a pleasant evening’s entertain- 
ment. After they were once settled down under the 
influence of a bright wood fire, the thought of the cold 
they had left behind made them all the merrier ; and 
fingers and needles, and refreshments too, all went 
faster than they had done in the warm days of summer. 
They were not mere idle nominal meetings, those in 


214 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


Southcliff; for a great store of flannel shirts and drawers, 
and of warm knitted stockings with Testaments in the 
toes, went off to the South that winter from this one 
little village ; and many a soldier was the warmer and 
happier for the Southcliff busybodies. It was always 
“our boys” who were set forth as the immediate objects 
of help ; but, after all, “ our boys ” saw very few of 
these particular shirts and stockings. 

Clemantha Douglass was always early, and Libby for 
this once was early too ; for Martha was not going, and 
she had to start before dark with the promise that Mr. 
Marsey would see her home. As Kate Telfair had staid 
at home with a sore throat, they two, Clem and Libby, 
drew off in a corner of the fireplace by themselves 
with a shirt between them, and prepared for a long 
chatty evening. 

“ I’m going to take the sleeve,” said Clem. “ I 
always pitch on sleeves : there’s more romance in them. 
It’s the sleeves that go first in the fight, you know.” 

“ But the shirts follow quickly,” said Libby, smiling. 

Whereupon Clem shook her head, and began to criti- 
cise the company as they straggled in, until they were 
fairly settled about the room, when the occupation 
seemed gone. 

“ I do wish Job Horn wouldn’t go in his shirt-sleeves ; 
it gives one such a feeling of being in the backwoods, 
don’t it, Lib ? ” 

Libby shrugged her shoulders, and laughed : she had 
often thought the same thing herself. 

“ And there’s Mrs. Stimson will wear that red and 
yellow check every meeting : why, it actually makes 
me sick.” 

“ Maybe she hasn’t any thing else. Clem Douglass, 


GARRISON SERVICE. 


215 


you aren’t sewing a bit : I’m afraid my shirt will go 
sleeveless.” 

“ Your shirt, indeed ! Say, Libby, don’t you wish 
John Hildreth might get this identical shirt ? ” 

Libby was silent: she did wish so with all her heart. 

“ I’m going to work my name in cross-stitch on the 
wristband, — just Clem Douglass : it’s so romantic, you 
know, instead of sending a Testament. See, that will 
be charming ; and, if John should get it, he’d know it 
was you and I. Oh, no ! he'd certainly know it wasn’t 
you unless the Testament went.” 

Libby smiled. “ I think it might be well for you if 
you dealt a little more in Testaments, Clem.” 

“ That’s not in my* line, nor my nature, you know, 
my dear. It can’t be helped : I grew so.’ 

“ O Clem ! ” 

“ What, Lib ? ” 

“ Don’t speak so, please. I wish you would let your 
nature change a little, if that is so.” 

“Now, do you really and honestly care about it, 
Libby ? ” she asked, dropping her shirt-sleeve, and look- 
ing in Libby’s face. 

“ Indeed I do, very much indeed.” 

“ Well, I suppose you should ; but no one ever cared 
much before, except the parson ; and it’s all in his 
way, you see.” 

“ But he cares a great deal, and so do I,” said Libby : 
“ we would like to have you come with us, and serve 
our dear Lord ; and O Clem ! I am very sure you 
would be happier.” 

“Say, Libby,” said Clem abruptly, “ you aren’t 
thinking of being a minister’s wife, are you, honest and 
true?” 


21G 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“No, Clem : don’t be foolish; I wish } r ou would be 
sober a minute.” 

“ Well, so I am, as sober as truth ; now, little Libby, 
talk on.” 

“ Won’t you promise me to think about being a 
Christian, Clem?” said Libby. 

“ Wh} r , childie ! I have thought of it, no end of 
times. I don’t know what to do next.” 

“ I don’t believe you feel any need of Christ, Clem,” 
said Libby, shaking her head. 

“ But I’m so well and strong, you know, Libby ; and 
these things don’t enter my head very often, that’s the 
truth.” 

“ I think Christ is a precious friend when one is well 
and strong ; but suppose you should be very ill, as I 
was, and think you were going to die.” 

“ Did you think you were going to die ? ” asked Cle- 
mantha. 

“ Indeed I did.” 

“ And wasn’t one bit afraid ? ” 

“ I don’t think I was at all, dear. I felt Christ hold- 
ing me so closely, I could not fear.” 

“ Oh, dear ! I should go crazy, if I thought I were 
going to die in a day or two. Why, Libby! ” 

“ But then, you dear child, you must surely die some 
day — soon perhaps.” 

“ O you gloomy creature ! what makes you talk so 
to-day, Libby ? ” 

“ Forgive me : I didn’t mean to be gloomy, but I do 
wish you would promise to think of this in earnest. I 
love you very much, Clem.” 

“ And, if you didn’t, you’d preach just the same, 
because it’s in you,” said Clem, with the tears glitter- 


GARRISON SERVICE. 


217 


ing under her lashes ; but she promised, none the less, 
to pray a little prayer, which Libby repeated for her. 
Before a week had passed she went, somewhat to 
Libby’s surprise, and volunteered to have “ a real good 
long talk ” with her. Before the winter was over, 
indeed, before Christmas time came round, the praying 
and resolves, with God’s blessing, had brought Clem to 
the foot of the cross. 

All this time, there was no news from Mrs. Hildreth. 
Indeed, no one in Southcliff would be at all likely 
to receive news from that lady ; for her mother was 
visiting in New York, the Hildreth girls had migrated 
with the first touch of cold weather, and Mrs. Hil- 
dreth was not on very sociable terms with the rest of 
Southcliff. After the first, no one was greatly inter- 
ested, even in Capt. Hildreth’s fate. Soipe of the old 
ladies in close conclave had come to the conclusion, 
after a week or two, that he was certainly dead. They 
had “ hearn tell, most all the men died after they’d 
been put in them ere hospitals ; ” and there they let 
the matter drop. But Libby, in the quiet of her home 
and of her harvest-fields, thought the matter over in 
her own mind, at times with regret and longing, but 
oftener with trustfulness and prayer, until finally she 
grew patient, and content to wait for whatever of joy 
or pain was yet in store for her. 

So the short days slipped by, and the merry Christ- 
mas time came round ; came with a delicate fall of snow, 
which whitened the earth and the sky, without block- 
ing up the roads or shutting Southcliff away from its 
kind. 

Then they felt as though the winter were half gone 
already. 


218 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XV. 


CHRISTMAS. 


HRISTMAS was not very much accounted of in 



V_y Southcliff. All those who had wearied themselves 
with Thanksgiving merriment seemed to think that 
for them the festivities of the year were concluded, and 
from that period it was time to settle down to a long 
winter’s work. But young people, when they are happy 
and light-hearted, do not wear} 7- of merry-making so 
quickly as this ; a Thanksgiving festival only whets 
their appetites for other festivities in the distance. So 
although there was no service in the village church, 
and no bells rang in the joyous Christmas morning, 
there were sleighing parties and skating parties amongst 
the younger portion of the congregation, and often an 
impromptu gathering at evening, around somebody’s 
great wood-fire ; a telling of stories, cracking of nuts, 
and swinging of apple-skins, which all was quite as 
enjoyable as many a formal Christmas entertainment 
with music and feasting. 

Clemantha Douglass had announced the day after 
Thanksgiving, and while she was still in festival spirits, 
that she meant to have a grand sleighing party Christ- 
mas Eve, if the ground was covered by even an inch 
of snow ; and, after this first announcement, no one 
was suffered to forget it. Though Clemantha strictly 


CHRISTMAS. 


219 


excluded all old or married people from her party, yet 
she was very happy to accept Mrs. Marsey’s cordial 
invitation that they should all “ stop inter her house as 
they come back, to get a cut of gingerbread and a glass 
of cider.” Clemantha was pretty sure doughnuts and 
mince-pies would be included in the bill of fare, with a 
rare, old-fashioned frolic in the chimney corner, and 
nuts and apples before they went home. 

“ This made the whole plan so easy,” she said ; “ be- 
cause ma hates a noise, and we couldn’t have a bit of 
fun with all the young ones around.” 

The “young ones” were always “around” at the 
Douglass homestead. One could hardly walk across the 
room without stumbling over two or three of them ; and 
it was sometimes dangerous to move an elbow, lest 
some inquisitive little one should be upset in the 
attempt. Mrs. Marsey herself had experienced this 
fact, and perhaps had it in her mind when she invited 
Clem’s sleighing party to adjourn to her sitting-room. 

Clemantha’s fairest hopes for the weather were fully 
realized. Christmas week began with a delicate fall of 
snow, which though so light that no one fancied it 
would amount to a great deal, and so dry that the little 
children, as well as the children of a larger growth, all 
thought it a fine thing to go abroad in it ; yet, as it kept 
falling softly and continuously hour after hour, by the 
day before Christmas it lay thickly over roads and 
hedgerows, making fairy palaces of the tall pine-trees, 
and lending a hundred ghostly arms to every maple and 
chestnut and oak. And when the sun came out 
brightly on Christmas morning, and began its work of 
destruction among the branches and on the housetops, 
melting the snow into mere every-day dewdrops, then, 


220 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


the wind and the old winter proving too strong for him, 
the sun was defeated in the unequal strife ; and there 
was only a gleam and sparkle of fairer beauty, where 
he danced weakly over the crystals he had been help- 
ing to make. 

It was just the kind of a morning to make light 
hearts rejoice. 

Libby had been very busy all the week, — so busy 
that she had no time to think whether or no she 
were having a good time. In the first place, although 
Christmas festivities were entirely without precedent in 
South cliff, yet the minister coming from another place, 
and having withal a large and tender heart for the 
children, and some small share of experience in such 
matters, had resolved from the first, that they must 
have a Christmas-tree and a children’s festival. He 
knew there would be some opposition to encounter at 
the first ; but in a good cause he cared very little for 
opposition ; and, after one struggle to gain over South- 
cliff prejudice, he fancied he should have easy sailing 
for the future. He had his own ideas, this silent, faith- 
ful pastor. He knew that he had no right or wisdom to 
choose out one day in the year from all the others, and 
assert that on such a day his Saviour came to die for 
him and for his brethren ; having no knowledge above 
what is written, he could not prove that at this time, or 
that, God’s blessing came upon the world ; but, knowing 
that one day in the year was the birthday of his Lord, 
he thought it the wisest and truest thing, that both the 
little children and all others with them should keep 
some day happy and sacred, in memory of a day long 
ago when the little child Jesus was born at Bethlehem. 

He had tried to make this one point very clear to his 


CHRISTMAS. 


221 


people; and, perhaps because of the pleasure he had in 
store for their little children, he had found it an easier 
matter than he had dared to hope. Therefore on 
Christmas morning they were to have a tree in the 
sabbath-school room for the children, which no one 
tried to oppose, with such numberless little hands and 
voices at home to coax and restrain. 

This had occupied all Libby’s spare hours for the 
first half of the week ; but the day before Christmas 
saw every thing completed, the last doll tied to the tree, 
and the last Christmas motto fastened on the wall. 
Then Mr. Hilton, who was himself superintendent of 
this little sabbath school, called his teachers about him 
to thank them for the help they had given him, and to 
show them the satisfaction he felt at this carrying-out 
of his plans. 

Afterward Libby turned to go home with a glad 
heart, and the old brightness in her eyes; having 
learned a little of the great truth, that it is more 
blessed to give than to receive. 

Mr. Hilton overtook her at the gate of the church- 
yard, and took her satchel and umbrella from her ; for 
it had been still snowing when she left home that 
morning. 

“ I think from your face, that you have fully enjoyed 
your own share in our Christmas-tree, Miss Libby,” he 
said. 

“ Indeed I have,” she answered quickly, “ ever}' inch 
of it. I’ve been thinking every few moments, just how 
each one of my little torments would open her dear 
eager eyes to-morrow morning.” 

“ And the thought was satisfactory ? ” he asked, 
laughing. 


19 * 


222 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 The result will be satisfactory, sir, and that is more 
to the point. Of course, there won’t be a whole doll 
in the class by nightfall; but I know by experience 
that lame and decapitated babies are the greatest treas- 
ures of all.” 

44 Perhaps,” he suggested, 44 it would have been well 
to break off a dozen or more of these china heads 
before the dolls were given.” 

44 That shows your want of experience, Mr. Hilton. 
There must be some past glory to remember, you see.” 

44 How is that ? ” he asked : 44 are you and I the better, 
in sorrow and disgrace, for the memory of past joy and 
"lory ? Does it not rather make the sorrow harder to 
bear?” 

She turned with him directly from jest to earnest ; 
but, in the rapid transition, the brightness and the joy 
in her eyes were not overcast by a cloud. 

“Not at all,” she said quickly. 44 If the glory was 
real and true, and not wrong for us to remember, it 
seems to me it gladdens and ennobles a sorrow, and 
brings a comfort always. I think any sorrow would be 
made lighter to me by the memory of past blessing.” 

He looked at her as though only half agreeing. 

44 Don’t you find this sabbath-school work you have 
undertaken, a pleasure to you ? ” he asked. 

44 Indeed I do, and thank you a hundred times for it. 
It is quite a new happiness, very different from any 
thing I have known before.; but it helps.” 

44 It helps you to feel that you are working with 
Christ?” 

She looked up quickly. 

44 It helps me to feel that I am in his hands, that he 
may use me entirely as he sees fit. Not that I am 


CHRISTMAS. 


223 


working with him, but that I am a tool which he uses 
in his work.” 

“ Yet we are laborers together with him.” 

“Yes, you are ; for me I like it best the other way : 
it keeps me humble. I don’t want any honor ; and it 
seems to me that I do nothing at all.” 

Mr. Hilton knew quite well, that, so far as human 
sight could go, Miss Libby Denwitt was the most faith- 
ful of all his teachers, never weary of visiting or of 
watching over her own little flock. However, he 
denied himself the pleasure of telling her this, and 
rejoiced in his heart that in any way he had been the 
means of bringing her comfort. 

Martha had just come in from her errands to the 
village, and stood untying her bonnet-strings, as Libby 
entered the door. She seemed a little disturbed in her 
mind, and had not noticed her kettle boiling over on 
the stove. 

“ Libby,” she said, “ I met Mrs. Horn into Hopkins’s, 
buying a pair of chickens ; and she says Mrs. Hil- 
dreth’s come back.” 

“ No ! ” cried Libby starting forward, — “ when, Mar- 
tha ? ” 

“ As near as I could make out, it must have been 
last night ; but I don’t know certain.” 

“ And John — John isn’t dead surely, Martha ? ” 

“ Dear child, how pale you are ! No, no, he’s as spry 
as ever. Mrs. Horn did say his ma fetched him home 
on sick-leave, or something of that sort ; but you can’t 
believe all the yarns that woman tells.” 

“ Home ! ” Libby repeated in a bewildered way to 
herself. In all her thoughts and plans, she had never 
fancied or prepared for this. 


224 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Yes, home , up on the hill,” said Martha, suddenly 
facing upon her. “ ’Tain’t any more to you , Lizabeth, 
after what you told me, than if he had kept to the 
front.” 

Libby shook herself, as though to be freed from some 
inward weight. 

“No, Martha,” she said, rising and walking away: 
“of course it must be nothing at all to me.” 

“ It’s best not to think of them kind of things when 
they’re oyer,” Martha resumed more gently : “ there’s 
no use crying over spilt milk.” 

Hard as it was to have her old wound so roughly 
handled, Libby tried very patiently not to take it to 
heart. She busied herself more than was her wont with 
the dinner preparations, swept the snow from the back 
steps, and cleared a path to the wood-shed, whisking 
about in the cold December air, until she came in with 
a glowing color, and a more contented light in her 
eyes; but a trouble hushed to sleep, or tired into 
unconsciousness, is not a dead and buried trouble, as 
she found. When the time for the sleigh-ride was 
drawing near, she felt nervous twitchings at her heart, 
and saw most wonderful visions of sleighing parties 
that had been in days gone by ; but she lingered about, 
getting the table ready for supper, until Martha fairly 
ordered her off to get ready for her ride, and then stood 
for fifteen minutes in her hat and shawl, waiting by 
the window with her ear bent for the sound of the 
sleigh-bells. 

The early winter twilight had already fallen, when 
at length she heard them in the distance, and, a moment 
after, saw dimly through the gloaming a dark object 
stopping at the gate. 


CHRISTMAS. 


225 


The moon had not yet risen ; and the light was so 
faint, that, as she halted beside the sleigh, she could 
scarcely distinguish one merry face from another. But 
when she was once established on the middle seat 
between Clem and Mr. Hilton, with a little leisure to 
glance about her, her vision grew clearer. While she 
spoke to one and another on the front seat, some one 
from behind bent forward, and said quietly, close at 
her ear, — 

“ Good-evening, Miss Denwitt.” 

Libby started quickly at the familiar voice, and, turn- 
ing half around, said almost inaudibly, — 

“ Are you quite well again, Mr. Hildreth ? I never 
expected to see you here.” 

“ Or you would, without doubt, have remained at 
home,” he added in a quiet even tone of voice. 
“ Thank you, yes, I am quite well ; that is to say, I 
shall consider myself in fighting order by next week.” 

There was no tremor in his voice, nor apparently any 
memory at his heart, of that day last summer, when 
they two had suffered so bitterly together. It seemed 
to Libby as if now every thing between them were 
really over forever. She had said the same thing to 
herself many times before, but she had never looked 
the stern reality quite so closely in the face. Now, how- 
ever, he had not only ceased to sorrow, but had learned 
to think of her as of any ordinary friend ; perhaps as 
something less than a friend henceforth, so very, very 
much less than the true little wife which she had once 
promised to be. 

She could only answer as best she might, — 

“T am glad you are so much better.” 

“Yes,” said Clem. “We none of us ever expected 
to see you again in this world : did we, Libby ? ” 


226 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Nor the next either, Miss Denwitt is thinking,” said 
John, eying her keenly. 

“ It was generally supposed that you were past recov- 
ery,” she answered quickly, quite ignoring his last 
remark. 

“ The general supposition was a kindly one at least ; ” 
and he laughed rather bitterly, and turned to Cleman- 
tha. “ And you, did you ever give me a kind thought, 
Miss Douglass ? ” 

“I’ve had so many other .things to think of,” she 
answered, “ and there’s so many soldiers, one can’t spare 
many thoughts apiece. If I feel charitable, I some- 
times give them all a kind wish every morning, — hot 
bread and gruel, and plenty of it.” 

He answered her laughingly ; and they kept up a little 
bantering talk between them for an hour or more, until 
they had branched off into military matters, and the 
great movements at the seat of war. While John 
talked of the things that he had seen, the things which 
any day might happen to himself, Libby resolutely 
turned her head away, and tried to talk with some one 
else while she still listened, against her will, to him. 

It was a clear cold night, so cold that Libby’s blood 
seemed to be growing sluggish in her veins, as they 
flew over the smooth level roads. She had not been 
strong since her illness, and every adverse wind was apt 
to tell upon her. Now, as she shivered and drew her 
furs closer about her neck, she wished she had been 
submissive at starting, and consented to take Martha’s 
blanket shawl upon her arm. 

She shivered once or twice, and her teeth chattered 
helplessly together. She was not enjoying the ride 
heartily or even passively ; she wondered if she should 


CHRISTMAS. 


227 


be frozen stiff, and have to be carried home to Martha 
on a shutter. While she wondered, something was 
thrown about her shoulders with a gentle care, which 
suggested watching and protection. The moonlight 
was still too dim to reveal any object very clearly ; but 
Libby was quite satisfied in her own mind, that the 
heavy wrap about her shoulders was a blue military 
overcoat. She turned quickly, with a protest bristling 
all over her. Mr. Hildreth and Clem were still keeping 
up their brisk little confab, and he was not looking at 
Libby. 

It’s good and warm, Libby,” said Clem, “ and sol- 
dier-like besides ; and you feel every bit of air twice as 
much as the rest of us.” ' 

“ I am obliged to Mr. Hildreth,” said Libby shortly, 
and trying to throw off the coat, “ but I had rather he 
kept it himself.” 

“ Being a selfish fellow he doubtless wou^ do so if 
he wanted it,” said John ; “ but lie’s hardened against 
any ordinary mortal needs, Miss Denwitt. The luxury 
of an overcoat would stifle me. I don’t know why I 
brought it with me.” 

Then, as the moon came from under a cloud, she 
caught a glimpse of a blue coat-sleeve, and the over- 
coat was replaced about her shoulders ; and then, not 
caring to make a scene, she sat and chafed inwardly 
against this comfortable protection. 

Martha’s eyes were keen and clear, able to discern 
at a great distance, and not very apt to be deceived. 
When Libby walked to the sleigh, Martha had followed 
her half way down the path, and then stood watching 
with wistful eyes as she was helped into her seat. Per- 
haps she had some half-unconscious recollections of 


228 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


other sleigh-rides years ago, in which she herself had 
taken part among the merriest. In gazing this way, 
she saw more than Libby’s dazed eyes had at first been 
able to perceive; namely, John Hildreth in his army 
uniform, revealed against the background of a neigh- 
boring snow-bank. It was for this purpose she had 
followed Libby out in the cold, with only her brown 
calico and slippers ; because, after what Mrs. Horn had 
told her, she thought Capt. Hildreth might be among 
the party, and because, for Libby’s sake and her own, 
she wished to be very sure. 

Thus, being assured beyond a doubt, she said, “ Poor 
little Lizzie ! ” softly to herself, and turned back to the 
house and her own Christmas musings. 

u Father ” was sitting by the fireside, holding his 
hands out before the blaze, and rubbing them together 
now and again. It may be he, too, had Christmas mus- 
ings, as well as his daughter ; for his great folios were 
laid aside, and his chin drooped wearily on his breast, 
while every few minutes a sigh seemed to come from 
far down in the depths of his being, which shook his 
stout old frame as though it had been a child’s. 

They sat on opposite sides of the fireplace for an 
hour or more, each busy with his own particular 
musings. First she mused of “ little Lizzie,” and all 
the struggles and trials which loomed before her in her 
woman’s lot ; then from Libby’s present and future, 
which at the best were exhaustible topics, she glided 
back to other Christmas Eves, when there had been 
sleigh-bells and greetings for her , when the snow had 
seemed to be sent for her pleasure. How strange it 
was that she should ever have felt like those children ! 
how strange if they should ever become lonely and 


CHRISTMAS. 


229 


desolate like her ! Yet in those days there had been 
present joy with no end of sweet possibilities to gladden 
her eyes ; and so the possibilities would pass with the 
snow for them. Some of them, like her, would sit over 
dreary firesides, with no future this side the grave ; and 
some, like her little Lizzie, would carry about aching 
hearts until they had grown stiff and feelingless. 

Father was thinking of one Christmas Eve long years 
ago, one which he seldom deliberately called to mind, 
and yet which always lay an unburied memory in his 
heart. He recalled a long ride he took through the 
snow and the bitter cold, one far-away December night, 
to bring a little bride to her new home. The sleigh- 
bells which rang for Libby had sent him back on the 
old track ; and he remembered well how like down the 
snow had seemed to him that night, and how the biting 
wind had been no more to him than a fresh summer 
breeze, for the warmth and love at his heart. It was 
the same little house as this, to be sure, only newer and 
smarter : the vines had not had so much time to clamber 
over the front porch, and the wing had not yet been 
put up on the westerly side. Fifty years make a great 
difference in a man’s life, — all the difference that lies 
between ice and fire, at times. He was wondering 
whether he should have been a different man, if the 
little wife could have staid in his home until now. 

44 Father, you’re tired,” said Martha quickly : “ shall 
I light the lamp for you to go up stairs ? ” 

44 No, Alice,” he answered slowly, turning his head to 
the fire, and still rubbing his hands together. 

Alice had been the name of the bride who came 
home that Christmas Eve. 

Martha knew then whither he had wandered, and 
20 


230 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


she let him dream quietly for a while longer ; hilt, when 
a great many more weary sighs had been drawn, she 
looked up again. His face seemed almost ghastly even 
with the glow of the fire which fell over it : his hair 
hung about his forehead, and his hands trembled visi- 
bly as he rubbed them together. 

“ Father, I reckon you ain’t just well,” she said. 

He looked up at her, at first, with a vacant, wander- 
ing stare, then shook himself from his revery. 

“ Hey ? what did you say, woman ? ” he asked. 

“ Your head aches, and you are sick, father,” said 
Martha patiently. 

It was a daring remark to make to this old man, who 
had not known the meaning of an ache or a pain for 
forty years and more. 

She went over to him, with an unwonted eagerness 
in her eyes, and pushed back the straggling hair from 
his forehead. He made a slight motion as if to repulse 
her, then his hands dropped wearily upon his knees. 

Touching on his recent reveries, Martha made a 
bold venture. 

“ Mother would have sent you to bed, if she had 
seen you so sick, father.” 

He made one little start, then sat quite still again. 

“ Yes, it’s coming,” he said : “ there’s one foe that 
don’t spare young or old, Martha.” 

“ Will you go to bed ? ” she asked again, in a coax- 
ing voice. 

“ Get me a lamp,” he answered gruffly. 

Martha went with hasty steps into the kitchen, and 
came back in a moment with a little shaded lamp. She 
stood waiting then, by his side, without offering to 
yield it to his keeping. 


CHRISTMAS. 


231 


“ Now, father,” she said, “ take my arm to steady 
yourself, and I’ll carry the lamp.” 

“ I'll carry it myself,” he answered, rising and totter- 
ing about where he stood: “give it here, and don’t 
coddle me.” 

She gave it dutifully, and, afraid to offer her arm 
again, followed him up stairs at a safe distance, then 
stood watching outside his door, until all was quiet 
within the room. 

Something strange had come over father: he had 
called her u Alice,” and had gone to bed at her bidding. 
Martha’s thoughts were very busy, while she sat and 
waited for Libby’s return. 


232 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


AH OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


RS. MARSEY had poked the fire, and put on 



d-VX fresh logs, in anticipation of her young company. 
The gingerbread and cider were set out on her clean 
pine table, with numberless other things which could 
tempt a youthful appetite. Eli Marsey, in company 
with his tobacco-box, had withdrawn to a distant cor- 
ner, where he sat in the pleasant expectation of being 
called on for a story in the course of the evening. For 
the rest, “ the parson ” had been moving back and forth 
all day from his study to the kitchen, arranging ever- 
greens and holly -berries in every available place, until 
the house looked like a bit of the winter woods when 
a fire is kindled among them. 

This was what Mrs. Marsey thoroughly enjoyed : 
she had never grown old, and she certainly never meant 
to grow older, where her heart was concerned. In a 
certain sense she had found the far-famed fountain of 
youth, — the very kindest sense in which it can be 
found, — where its waters are applied to the heart. 
Then wrinkles become immaterial things ; and no one 
takes notice of dim and failing eyes, because of the 
kindly spirit that shines from them. So, through living 
in the lives of others, Mrs. Marsey had renewed her 
own. 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


233 


In this way she hacl learned to read people’s hearts 
without intending it, and to know your troubles 
almost as soon as you knew them yourself. She had 
known very well what worried Libby Demvitt : she 
knew now that something weighed on the mind of thd 
parson, and had her own very reasonable suspicions of 
what that something might be. She thought it was a 
grand thing to throw people together, and let troubles 
and wrongs right themselves. Every thing of that 
kind, like water, was sure to find its level, and run 
smoothly after a few breaks and overflows. She had 
more faith than some of her neighbors in an overruling 
Providence ; or, rather, her faith was less passive. 

This Christmas Eve her face glowed almost as brightly 
as her fire ; and one could almost have taken her for an 
old-fashioned fairy godmother, who could never look 
cross or ugly, — never by any possibility change a 
respectable carriage back to a pumpkin, because the 
rider had been neglectful and happy. 

“ Law, father, it’s just like a pictur, ben’t it ? ” she 
exclaimed complacently, overlooking the minister’s dec- 
orations, with a hand on each capacious hip. “ It set 
me thinking of good old times, when Joram and Jane 
was little chits.” 

“ Hark, hark ! there they come,” cried the old man 
with all the excitement of a ten-years’ child : “ poke up 
the fire, mother, and I’ll open the door.” 

The fire being already as bright as possible, Mrs. 
Marsey herself flew to the door as fast as her comfort- 
able figure would permit, and let in such a blast of 
fresh air that “ the parson ” shivered in his study, and 
Mr. Marsey in the chimney-corner. 

She let in besides a bevy of half-frozen young 
20 * 


234 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


savages, with numb fingers and glowing faces ; each of 
whom in turn she caught in her arms, and embraced 
with wonderful unction. 

“We’re glad to see you, children, — proper glad to 
see you,” she said : “just come in and get a bit of heat, 
then make yourselves to hum, and raise the house-roof 
if you want. ’Tain’t no odds to me and father : we’re 
frisky as ever, we be.” 

Doubtless the neighbors thought the house-roof 
might be coming off, with the noise “ the children ” 
made. It takes a very little time to warm cold fingers 
when any thing amusing is to come after ; and, these 
cold fingers being once heated, there seemed no end to 
the ridiculous things that were done. 

“Jest like little boys and gals again,” laughed Mrs. 
Marsey : “ don’t it beat all natur, how they run on ? ” 

“ Blind-man’s-buff ” and “ fox-and-geese ” began it ; 
then “ hurly-burly ” broke a leg off one of Mrs. 
Marsey’s cane-seat chairs, and some kindred game de- 
molished a plaster image ; but the good lady declared 
it “didn’t matter a mite,” and she was glad it w T as 
gone, so was “father.” 

These savage pastimes having somewhat reduced the 
flow of spirits, they gathered about the fire by mutual 
consent, and began cracking nuts, and telling stories, 
much to Mr. Marsey’s edification ; especially when he 
was called on to contribute his share. In the fun and 
the frolic, the candles burnt out ; and directly Mrs. 
Marsey was besieged on all sides* that she would not 
bring any more: the fire-light was quite sufficient to 
show them the way to their mouths, with the differ- 
ence between cold chicken and gingerbread : so, as 
these lords of misrule had the ordering of the evening, 
the candles were doomed to oblivion. 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


235 


The fire-light gleamed very brightly oyer the walls 
and furniture, — no fear of that being banished. It 
was just weird enough, and pretty enough, to remind 
them of all sorts of strange and delightful stories, and 
the stories came as readily as they were called for. 

John Hildreth had seemed as merry as the others all 
the evening, — not boisterous but quietly amused; and 
now, when they called on him for war tales, he told 
them readily, with ease and spirit. He remembered 
more than one little adventure of one and another of 
his company, whom every one knew ; but he passed 
over very quietly his own share in any adventure or 
danger. 

44 Something about yourself, now, Mr. Hildreth,” said 
Clem. 44 The boys have been very brave, and I’m sure 
we’re proud of them ; but personal adventures are always 
more interesting.” 

44 Indeed I have nothing I can tell, Miss Douglass,” he 
replied, leaning back in his chair, and looking over at 
Libby, who sat beside Mr. Hilton. 

44 Law, now, John,” * said Mrs. Marsey coaxingly, 
44 you’ve been in more’n one fight, and I’ll warrant you 
hain’t run. Let the girls hear about ’em.” 

44 1 am going to keep my personal adventures for my 
wife, Mrs. Marsejq” he replied with the utmost com- 
posure. 

44 Law, now : so }^ou shall, my son,” said the lady, 
while a very merry laugh ran round the circle. If 
nearly every eye w T as turned to Libby, it was not from 
any rudeness or unkind feeling, only from an irresistible 
desire to see how she would take this prospect of John’s 
future wife ; and, when she blushed more under his eye 
than any other, every one turned away, and began to 


236 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


talk vociferously of other matters. No one asked again 
for John’s personal experience, but for a half-hour or so 
every one seemed to have experience of their own to 
relate. At last one merry young damsel slipped out in 
the hall, and returned with an immense paper parcel, 
which she laid on the table amid profound silence. 

44 Now, Mr. Hildreth,” she said, “you were to speak.” 

“ I was to ask Mrs. Marsey,” John replied, rising 
quickly, “ to accept of a Christmas gift from 4 the chil- 
dren ,’ and to thank her with all our hearts for her 
glorious old Christmas hospitality.” 

“ Long may she wave ! ” cried Clem, while one and all 
thronged round the tearful, trembling old lady, to help 
undo the package, and investigate its contents. As for 
Mrs. Marsey, good old soul, she was equal to nothing 
but wiping her eyes, between her laughter and crying, 
“ I want to know ! dear little creturs ! who’d ’ a’ thought 
it ? well, well ! ” 

In the midst of the excitement which followed, when 
the beautiful little tea-service was displayed in full 
view, John came up close beside Libby Denwitt, who 
still stood by the fire smiling kindly on the eagerness 
of the others. 

“ Libby,” he said, in low, smothered tones, 44 what is 
this about you and the minister? ” 

44 Hush,” she whispered softly, for the minister stood 
about two feet away leaning against the mantel, and 
watching the scene in which he had no part. However, 
at the sound of their voices he moved to the table, and 
joined himself in the general excitement. 

44 Come out in the hall with me a moment, Libby,” 
John urged imperatively. 

44 1 can’t indeed : it’s too cold,” she answered, ner- 
vously tapping her foot. 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


237 


John caught up a great blanket shawl, and threw it 
around her shoulders. 

“ Come for only two minutes, Libby,” he repeated. 

“What will every one think? ’’she queried, with a 
little anxious look toward the table. 

u Have you grown to care what every one thinks, in 
this past six months, Libby?” he asked her bitterly. 
Then she turned and followed him like one in a trance. 
It was cold in the hall, and very dim, the only light 
coming from one small tallow candle which was hung 
from the ceiling; but Libby’s cheeks were very hot, 
her eyes shone with a strange brightness, and every 
nerve in her body trembled and quivered, with the 
fierce struggle within her. John seemed to take due 
note of all this. He looked down in her face with a 
strange, fierce tenderness, as though he could trample 
her under foot, if he might not have every atom of her 
love. 

When he placed her hand on his arm, she drew it 
away and stood quite still before him. 

“ Quick,” she said : “ only two minutes, you know, 
and they will miss us.” 

“ I will be quick,” he answered with impatient scorn : 
“ you are very unwilling to spare me a moment of your 
time. It would be a crime if you touched me with 
your dainty finger-tip ; would it not, little Saint Eliza- 
beth ? Have I grown vile, or you more holy, in the last 
six months ? ” 

She looked up at him wistfully, choking down the 
grief and the tears together, that she might say what 
was needful in those two moments. 

“ You don’t know what you are saying,” she answered 
gently. 


238 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“No, I don’t : I am fiercer than a savage, I suppose,” 
he rejoined in a softened tone. “ Tell me what is this 
about you and the parson?” 

“ I don’t think you have any right to ask,” she re- 
plied. 

“No right! possibly I have no right laid down in 
the letter of the law. That is like you women : what 
pleasure do you find in torturing a man with pins ? 
Can’t you have the moral courage to tell me what I 
have no right to know, when I stoop to ask you for it ? 
Very well : I wish you all happiness, Miss Denwitt. 
We will return to the others, who will miss us.” 

“John,” she said quickly, laying her hand on his 
arm, “ there is a very pleasant friendship between Mr. 
Hilton and myself. There is nothing more ; there never 
will be any thing more.” 

“ There is my frank little Libby,” he cried. “ God 
bless her ! ” and, before she could turn about or resist, 
he had taken her closely in his arms. “ You have never 
promised him my little wife, sweetheart, and you never 
will : tell me that,” he whispered. 

“ O John, let me go at once, at once,” she cried, 
struggling against the strong arms that wrapped her 
about, and held her with the close -clasp she had known 
before, — to long for, oh, so often, in the dark days that 
came after. 

“ Do you love me still, Libby? ” he asked holding her 
close to his heart. 

“ Hush ! hush ! ” she cried, half sobbing, “ indeed you 
must let me go.” 

“I will let you go, Libby, in one moment, when you 
tell me.” 

Perhaps she was wrong, perhaps she did very unwisely 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


239 


not to look grave and dignified, and resist this imperative 
manhood ; hut she thought of the bloody battle scenes 
which he had drawn for them that night, and to which 
he would return in so few days himself; she thought 
of the nights and days to come when he would be 
exposed to danger and death; and the fight was too 
sore for her. 

44 When I told you once that I loved you,” she an- 
swered sadly, 44 1 meant it for all eternity. I cannot 
alter it, Jcjhn; and I cannot be any more to you.” 

A great flash of triumph and love shone in John’s 
dark eyes, and a slight smile played about his lips. 

44 So you are mine, and I w'ill have you some day,” he 
said. 

He let her go then, indeed ; but first, regardless of all 
propriety and sense of right, he stooped and kissed her 
twice on her sweet quivering lips, which, if they were 
not his own, he believed in his heart at least would 
never belong to another. 

Then directly, as they were about to return, the 
whole troop streamed out in quest of shawls and over- 
coats, bonnets and hats. Some one had missed a shawl, 
and another had missed Libby Denwitt ; but the shawl 
was quickly recovered, and in the confusion no one 
seemed to take any notice of any unusual proceedings. 

Libby took no more notice than the others as to 
where she was being stowed in the great comfortable 
sleigh ; but, after they had once started on their way 
home, she noticed that John was beside her now, and 
his overcoat around her as before ; and, though he 
scarcely spoke to her all the way home, yet she felt 
very well that she had yielded, and given him a great 
advantage. Somehow the hardest thing of all was to 
be sorry for what had passed. 


240 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


When the sleigh stopped at the gate, John got out as 
a matter of course, and walked with her to the door ; 
but, as lie bade her good-night, she turned with sudden 
spirit, and made this little speech : — 

“ I have not yielded, John,” she said : “ every thing is 
between us as it was before.” 

“ Libby,” he said, “ I am going away in a week ; there 
will be hard fighting, — death, most likely.” 

“ Good-night : I can’t help it, John,” she said des- 
perately. 

“You women,” he said in a bitter way, “would give 
your heart’s blood for a fancy, where you grudge a 
crumb of kindness to the one who holds you dearest. 
Good-night.” 

The words sounded cold und unfriendly on the frosty 
air ; and Libby ran in, with a great sickness coming over 
her heart, and crept into Martha’s arms. Martha had 
been waiting hour after hour for her little sister to come 
back, fancying all manner of strange uncanny things in 
her loneliness, and listening always for the sound of the 
bells ; yet now, when she had her back, it seemed only a 
change of worriment. For a time she sat quite silently 
holding Libby in her arms, only asking at last with a 
tremor in her voice, — 

“ Did you have a good time, Lizabeth? ” 

“ Oh, yes, Martha, so good ! ” said Libby with a long- 
drawn sigh. 

“And John Hildreth — he went along?” asked Mar- 
tha still. 

“ Yes. How did you know, Mart? ” 

“ How do I know most things ? ” asked her sister 
dryly. 

“ Oh, liush ! ” said Libby, “ not that way. Don’t put 
on that way, Martha.” 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


241 


“ Poor little Lizzie ! poor little Lizzie ! Well, I can’t 
blame you much, clear,” said Martha, thinking of her 
own loveless life, and of the sore temptation which such 
a love must be, and would have been to her. 44 So you 
went back to him, eh? ” 

44 No, no : it wasn’t quite that,” said Libby. 44 O 
Martha, Martha ! can’t you help me a little against my 
own heart ? ” 

44 Poor little Lizzie,” said Martha again ; but she sat 
and held her close, stroking back the sunny hair from 
her forehead for a while. 

44 Yes, I’ll do all I can,” she said presently, with a 
decided quick tone, for it cost her not a little to come 
to this decision. 44 I’ll send you off across the mountain 
to Cousin Eunice and her husband. The air of the 
farm’ll do you good, and there won’t be many tempta- 
tions for your poor little heart.” 

Such a foolish Martha! as if the heart does not carry 
with it its own temptations wherever it may be sent. 

44 0 Martha!” sobbed Libby. 

44 Well, you’ll go, won’t you ? ” 

Yes, she would go. Martha could not see further, — 
the bitterness of the going, when she might possibly 
see him again ; the loss and the loneliness, after the 
love she had just known. It seemed almost like the 
old struggle fought over anew. 

44 You’d best go to-morrow morning,” said Martha. 
“Deacon Marshall means to drive a team across to 
Mitchell’s saw-mill to-morrow, and that’s right nigh 
Cousin Eunice’s. If I slip over in the morning, he’ll 
stop for you and your things. Ill pack ’em up to-night.” 

44 O Martha ! ” sobbed Libby again. 

44 1 can’t bear to have you go, but you needn’t stay 

21 


242 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


long,” said Martha with a rueful sigh, — “ no longer till 
you get over all this.” 

44 Get over all this.” Little enough Martha knew 
of what 44 all this ” meant. 

44 I’ll go,” said Libby mechanically. 

44 Cousin Eunice will be right glad to have you,” 
said Martha ; 44 and you’ll have a good time, and father 
and me’ll get on well enough. Father don’t seem right 
well to-night, a little cold, I guess : so he went to bed 
early.” 

44 Then I’d best stay, and help you,” said Libby 
quickly. 

44 You’d best go,” Martha answered shortly, 44 and so 
there’s enough said.” 

They went up stairs together, to Libby’s small bed- 
room ; and Libby, in a doleful mood, sat by listlessly 
while Martha plunged through her bureau-drawers. 

44 1 wish you wouldn’t,” she said at last : 44 you’re 
tumbling my things all upside down, Martha. Just 
put as little as you can in father’s big bag, and I’ll take 
that.” 

44 You’ll want three or four changes,” said Martha, 
stopping short; 44 and you best take the little hair 
trunk.” 

44 1 shaVt stay more than a week,” said Libby ; 44 not 
a day.” 

Martha crossed the room, and, taking Libby’s face in 
her hands, turned it around to the light of the lamp. 

“ Is he going in a week ? ” she asked. 

44 Yes,” said Libby shortly. 

44 W ell, then, stay a week if you will have it so ; and 
mind you get all over this, child, before you come back.” 

Libby gave a low, miserable little laugh, and turned 


AN OLD BATTLE-GROUND. 


243 


away to poke the fire, while Martha packed the hag in 
silence. When it was finished she came up again to 
her sister. 

“ Will you kiss me good-night, Lizabeth? ” she said. 

Libby started from her revery, and, throwing her 
arms around Martha’s neck, kissed her two or three 
times for mutual farewell and forgiveness. 

Martha began to see that Libby was going through a 
something which she quite failed to comprehend, and 
was learning to feel a sort of tender reverence towards 
her pale little sister. 


244 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


CHAPTER XVII 


A WINTRY CAMPAIGN. 


ATHER was about in the morning, and down to 



J- breakfast. Although he scarcely ate a half-dozen 
mouthfuls, yet he repelled indignantly any suggestion 
that he was not so well as usual. Even before break- 
fast Martha had stepped over to Deacon Marshall’s, to 
find out at what time the team would start, and 
whether Libby could be taken as a passenger. The 
deacon was not very partial to womankind, whom he 
regarded somewhat as useless “ cumberers of the 
ground.” But as they were always about in the pres- 
ent state of things, and could not well be avoided, 
he treated them with the same pitying forbearance 
which, being a tender-hearted man, he felt for mangled 
worms, spider-trapped flies, or any other creature 
which he found in a forlorn and helpless condition. 
He never would have ventured so far as to take upon 
himself a permanent incumbrance in the shape of a wife ; 
but as some of these creatures undoubtedly had a pleas- 
ant knack of setting things in order, and concocting 
agreeable dishes for the table, he had consented to 
have his widowed sister, with her daughter, come over 
and keep house for him at the old homestead. He even 
condescended, of a dark night, to escort them to church ; 
but he generally contrived either to hang a little behind 


A "WINTRY CAMPAIGN. 245 

them, or to find some excuse for walking on the other 
side of the road. 

The request that he would undertake the charge of 
Libby Denwitt, for a solitary drive of eight miles, was 
at first sadly bewildering to his mind; but, looking 
upon Martha as an unusually mangled and inoffensive 
worm, he decided to be for once courageous and oblige 
her. He would “ stop for Liz’beth and her traps at 
eight o’clock, and couldn’t stop a minute after.” 

At precisely eight o’clock by the deacon’s watch, 
Libby was seated in the stout farm-wagon on father’s 
great bag, ready to start on her journey. Martha, hav- 
ing said a very sober “ good-by,” stood on the door- 
step, and waved her hand, as they drove away. As for 
Libby, she felt as though she were wrenching herself 
away from all the old scenes and pleasures, breaking 
off all future intercourse with John, and putting a 
strain upon her heart, which it seemed too weak to 
bear, which it certainly was too weak to bear in its own 
strength, — so weak that she longed to drive through 
the village, for the hope of seeing him again, only once , 
coming out of the post-office, or driving past them in 
his sleigh : one glance, a wave of the hand, would be 
something. But even the glance, and the wave of the 
hand, were denied her. 

As they drove into the open country, she bethought 
herself of another matter, and asked the deacon sud- 
denly some question of the war. 

He turned, and scanned her for a moment with his 
little round black eyes. 

“ Hum ! they’re kinder resting on their oars,” he 
said, cracking his whip over the horses’ heads, in a 
manner which said very plainly, that, if he had the 
21* 


246 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


matter in hand, he would set them about better bus- 
iness. 

“ Are they going to have another great l attle ? v 

“ What do you know about it? ” he asked. 

“ That’s just the point, Deacon Marshall ; I know so 
little about it that I asked you for information.” 

“ You wimmen-folks had better mind your sweeping 
and bread-making,” he said shortly. 

“ But sweeping and bread-making can’t fill all a 
woman’s life,” she answered him patiently. 

“ You hain’t any men-folks at the front to fret about, 
I suppose ? ” 

She let this remark pass unanswered. 

“Well, there’s no keeping track of wimmen’s hearts, 
anyhow,” he observed oracularly ; “ but, as to them 
matters, you can’t understand one atom on ’em,” he 
added, with a touch of compassion in his voice. 

“ My understanding is every atom as good as yours, 
Deacon Marshall,” said Libby, with a good-natured 
persistence. 

“ So, so,” said the deacon, fearful of a scene : “what 
did you want to know, marm? If they’ve et up all 
their sasses and jellies, and want some more of your 
blankets ? ” 

“ No, Deacon Marshall, I am not especially interested 
in that question. I thought you might have seen a 
paper to-day, and could tell me if there’s any chance 
of a battle.” 

“ Battle, hum ! They’ve got it into their heads, some 
of them big guns at Washington, that fighting can’t be 
did in winter. I know better, I know better ! I’ve 
fired a musket time and again, with a foot of snow on 
the ground; and I’ve always heard tell ’twas summer 


A WINTRY CAMPAIGN. 


247 


tlie year round in them parts. But ’tain’t no go ; if a 
man won’t fight, fire can't make him.” 

But, haying no mind for further argument, she left 
the old deacon in peace thenceforth, much to his com- 
fort and satisfaction. 

Martha felt a load lifted from her heart, as she saw 
Libby driving off with the deacon. Now that she 
was out of the way of temptation, with new surround- 
ings and other things to occupy her thoughts, most 
probably . she would forget all this troublesome love 
affair ; and it might even be a possible thing, that in 
time she would marry the parson: that would be a 
blessed relief, to be sure. She walked in then, with an 
audible sigh, to clear off the breakfast things, and see 
that father was comfortable. 

He sat closely over .the fire, almost in a doze, with 
his head dropped on his hands. She stood still a 
moment, looking at him ; and, as she looked, the tears 
gathered in her eyes, for she loved this old man with 
all the intensity of fondness which some women feel 
for their children. How very, very old he was grow- 
ing, this last year ! and now all desire seemed to have 
failed from his life. More, even, than this, as he proved 
to her presently. 

“ Father you’d be better in bed.” 

He started, and raised himself slowty from his bowed 
position. Possibly he had a reproof at the end of his 
tongue ; but, in place of uttering it, he stared vacantly, 
and stretched out his hands. 

“ Where are you, Martha? ” 

“ Just beside you, father ; will you lie down awhile ? ” 

“Woman, I tell you it’s dark — dark as night. It 
is night: go to bed.” 


248 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 Father, it’s morning : see the sunlight on your 
hand.” 

44 Warm — yes, I feel it : yes — yes — yes — dark 
with morning all around. It’s the anger of the Al- 
mighty : who can stand when once he is angry ? ” 

“ 4 Those that looked out of the windows were 
darkened.’ ” 

“ Take me outside in the sunlight,” he cried in deep 
distress; “bring me some water ; rub my eyes.” 

“ Father, father,” she cried, 44 are you blind ? ” 

44 It’s the vengeance of the Lord,” he repeated with 
a groan. 

44 Nay, rather the love of the Lord, perhaps,” said 
Martha calmly. 

The blow had struck her own heart, yet she was 
calm at this : all God’s ways were right, and he meant 
them often for blessings when they seemed a curse. 

Father, in his blindness, was unresisting as a child. 
He submitted to be put to bed, and bandaged and 
coddled and nursed. He even yielded without a mur- 
mur when the doctor was brought. But it was pitiful 
to hear him repeat again and again the same worn 
question, receiving always the same worn answer. 

44 Will it go over? Shall the world be always dark, 
man ? ” 

44 We shall see, sir, we shall see : have patience.” 

After the doctor had left that evening, and the kind 
neighbors were home at supper, he asked the same 
question again. The daylight was dying away, and 
Martha had poked up the fire, and was trying, on her 
knees before it, to toast a bit of bread for his supper. 
He had lain quiet a long time, and she thought him 
asleep, until he startled her suddenly with the well- 
worn cry, — 


A WINTRY CAMPAIGN. 


249 


“ Martha, what did that man say to you ? Does he 
think I’m a fool, or a baby — which ? If he don’t 
know, by this, whether I’ll see again, the man’s a fool, 
an arrant fool.” 

“ He’s said to be a right good doctor, father.” 

“ Right good humbug ! I want to know the worst, 
and I will know, woman.” 

She rose then, and walked to the bed, and laid her 
hard, bony hand caressingly on his hair. 

“ Would it be so very bad, father ? ” 

“ Bad ! ” he cried, “ never to see the light of the 
sun ! ” Martha sighed. 

“ There’s the Sun of righteousness, which is a better 
sight,” she said. 

“ Then it’s so,” he cried : “ can’t you stop snivelling, 
and tell me ? ” 

“Yes, it’s so,” she answered. 

“ Oh ! the anger of the Lord burns hot, woman,” he 
said. 

u The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous 
altogether,” she answered. 

“ Go, leave the worthless old sinner to die, Martha,” 
he said. 

“ I’ll be eyes and hands to you, father, as long as 
God gives us life,” she answered again. 

“ Poor Martha, poor Martha,” he repeated slowly, 
seeming for the first time, in this new trouble of his 
own, to have some conception of the hidden, troublous 
life, which his daughter lived- out day by day beside 
him. 

The tears gathered in Martha’s eyes, and rolled slowly 
down her face. Martha belonged to the stiff old Puritan 
stock, and tears in her eyes were a strange, unwonted 
thing. 


250 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


44 O father ! I’ll work for you night and day, until 
I’m stiff and cold,” she said. 

“ You’ve been a good enough daughter, Martha : 
don’t vex yourself,” he answered. 44 I won’t trouble 
any one long. When 4 those that look out at the 
windows be darkened,’ man soon 4 goeth to his long 
home.’ ” 

44 But, father,” she said bravely, 44 you’re not ready 
to go to your long home, and no peace made with God.” 

A day before he would have answered her angrily, 
told her he was as good as the “parson,” and bade her 
hold her tongue. Now he was silent, and turned un- 
easily on his pillow. 

44 O father ! you are a sinner,” she said. 

44 1 haven’t broken God’s law,” he answered dog- 
gedty. “ I haven’t murdered, nor stolen, nor lied, nor 
wronged my neighbors — hey, child ? ” 

44 But the summing of the whole law is this : 4 Thou 
slialt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart , and 
with all thy soul , and with all thy mind , and with all 
thy strength; and thy neighbor as thyself. Whosoever 
offends in the least point is guilty of all ,’ ” Martha 
repeated emphatically. 

He turned about uneasily on his pillow, and was 
silent ; and Martha’s tears dropped slowly on the 
coverlet, wrung out by the intense pity at her 
heart. 

44 Where is my supper, child ? ” at length he said. 

44 Just here, father ; ’’ and she began stepping quickly 
about to gather it together on a little waiter. 

In the midst of his eating, suddenly, and without any 
preliminary, he raised his sightless eyes to her face 
44 1 won’t be preached to, woman. I’m no worse a sin- 


A WINTBY CAMPAIGN. 


251 


ner than the rest of my neighbors,” he said. “ They 
haven’t loved me any better than I did them.” 

“You wouldn’t let them show any love,” she an- 
swered unyieldingly. “ You know, father, you’ve set 
yourself aloof from everybody, and from the Saviour 
of sinners too.” 

“Put out the light, and keep still. I’m going to 
sleep,” he answered. 

She put out the light, and kept very still to be sure, 
on her knees, in one corner of the room, while hour 
after hour her father tossed and turned uneasily from 
one side of the bed to the other. Even Martha fell to 
sleep at length, and dozed quietly by herself, until the 
clock striking midnight awoke her: then she heard her 
name called. 

“ What o’clock is it, Martha ? ” 

“ Just twelve.” 

“ Yes, yes, just so: I thought it, — even the ‘eleventh 
hour ’ passed. Go to bed, child.” 

And Martha was too drowsy to see any double mean- 
ing in his words. 

The next morning, while Martha was busy over the 
fire, making gruel for this querulous old man, she heard 
a quick, determined rap at the front door ; and after 
stopping to give a few more careful stirs, lest the gruel 
should burn, she stood her saucepan aside, let down her 
sleeves, and proceeded to admit her visitor. 

This was John Hildreth, complete in military dress, 
who stood on her doorstep, and respectfully removed 
his cap at sight of her. 

“ Miss Denwitt,” he said, looking straight into her 
eyes, “I should like to see Libby a moment, if you 
please.” 


252 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ And what for, pray ? ” asked Martha sharply. 

“If you will pardon my rudeness, and kindly allow 
me to step in a moment, Miss Denwitt, I would really 
much prefer stating my business to Miss Libby her- 
self.” 

Martha was ruffled at the gleam of fun in John’s 
eye, and his careless way of setting aside all authority. 
She put up her feathers like an indignant old hen 
whose chickens are in danger ; or, more literally, she 
drew herself back with a gesture which tried to be 
repellant, yet failed in a measure, through the melting 
of her heart toward this masterful young soldier whom 
Libby loved. 

“ But what if I say you can’t see her, John Hil- 
dreth ? ” she asked. 

J ohn bowed coldly. 

“ In that case, Miss Denwitt, I should be tempted to 
remind you, that, where peaceable means fail, there 
are many other ways for a determined man to gain his 
end in such a matter as this.” 

John spoke very coolly : all the excitement and the 
disadvantage were on Martha’s side. 

“ She is not at home, John.” 

“ If she will be at home presently, I may sit in the 
porch, and wait for her, I suppose.” 

“ She is far across the mountains by this time,” Mar- 
tha replied, furtively dropping her eyes. 

“Is that the truth, Miss Denwitt,” asked John, 
eying her keenly, “on your honor as a lad y, — a lady 
and a Christian? Be fair and open with me ; for I’m in 
a desperate case.” 

“ I’ve told you the truth,” said Martha shortly, lift- 
ing her eyes now, and looking him full in the face. 


A WINTRY CAMPAIGN. 


253 


“ Do you mean me to understand that there was a 
reason for her journey ? ” he asked, flushing angrily. 

“ I mean that I have sent her across the mountains,” 
she answered with a meaning. 

“And what did you do with your heart, mean- 
while ? ” he asked her. 

“John Hildreth,” she said, “if I have no pity on 
my little sister, — the apple of my eye, — do you think 
I would have any to waste on a great, strong fellow 
like you?” 

His face grew gentler under her gaze. 

“ It was the little sister I had in my mind, Miss 
Denwitt. Where was your pity for this little sister, 
who is 4 the apple of your eye ’ ?” 

“ If my right eye caused me to sin, I would 4 pluck 
it out,’” she answered shortly. “ When my little sister 
comes to me, and cries out for help against her own 
heart, 4 for conscience’ sake,’ I’d have packed up bag 
and baggage, and gone to Patagonia with her, before 
I’d have left her another day in reach of your coaxing 
words and handsome face. Go, look for her across the 
mountains : you’ll have a long field to search over.” 

Nevertheless, if the field were long, John was not 
discouraged at prospect of a search. He, was preparing 
to start that very afternoon, when a message from the 
seat of war cut short his furlough, and ordered him 
back at once to his regiment, on business of pressing 
importance. A soldier, as such, has no will of his 
own ; and all that John Hildreth had to carry from 
Southcliff was the assurance that Libby still loved him, 

even against her will. 

22 


254 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAFTH. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


A VICTORY WHICH WAS ALMOST A DEFEAT. 

R. HILTON had finished his sabbath’s sermon, 



-TV1_ and leaned back restfully in his easy-chair, 
stretching his feet toward the cosey wood-fire which 
Mrs. Marsey had set blazing on his hearth. The glow 
and warmth of it refreshed his heart, like the presence 
of a friend. Moreover, it was Saturday afternoon ; 
and, after a week of labor, he had earned a little rest. 

So he rested his feet on the fender, stretched his , 
arms over his head, and fell to dreaming ; for it is a 
curious fact, that many of the studious, thoughtful 
people, who make a labor and profit of thinking all 
their days, can find no better recreation for their holi- 
days and leisure moments, when they come, than think- 
ing and dreaming again. 

There had come a bright temptation to him of late. 
Does any one think, because his pastor is set on a 
watch-tower, to warn the flock against “ the world, the 
flesh, and the Devil,” that he himself is never tempted 
by them; because he teaches men how to fight with 
their sins, that he never has like foes of his own to 
overcome, or that the vanities and allurements of this 
life never appear to him decked in the purest colors 
of charity and truth ? If Christ’s ministers were free 
from temptation, surely the servant would be little like 
his Lord. 


A VICTORY WHICH WAS ALMOST A DEFEAT. 255 

“ The disciple is not above his Master, neither he 
that is sent greater than He that sent him.” 

Some one had come home to Southcliff the night 
before, after a stay of three long weeks. Would she 
be glad to see him ? If he left dozing over the fire, 
and took the trouble of a walk to find her, would she 
give him a welcome worth the going for ? If she gave 
him any welcome whatever, the journey in the cold 
could scarcely be a trouble. 

Perhaps it would be better to take the deacon’s 
sleigh, and give her a trial of Southcliff sleighing in 
the cool, crisp afternoon. 

Might it not be possible, was it not even very likety, 
that seeing John Hildreth so far from her reach, with 
such a barrier between them, she would learn to for- 
get him in time ? Might she not even be forgetting 
him already? Girlish fancies sometimes change very 
quickly. John had been home again; and, to all out- 
ward appearing, they had met as friends, with no be- 
trayal of the old love. Would a faithful, patient ser- 
vice, that gave all, and asked so little in return, win its 
own way in time, and be counted in the very place of 
the old love which had died ? 

And this was the spirit of the temptation which 
came in a bright dress, with a winsome face, to our 
pastor Philip Hilton. 

At its voice he bestirred himself, and his eyes were 
gladdened with the possible hope. 

He had wanted many material things in his life, — 
this brave young pastor ; many things doubtless which 
never fell to his lot for the wishing : yet among them 
all there was never one before, to which he had looked 
forward with such intensity of longing and gladness, 


256 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


none which had seemed to promise such a perfection 
of earthly bliss. Every former hope for this life had 
had its alloy : this was pure gold. 

Should he do wrong in telling her of the hope, when 
perhaps even now her heart was turning toward him ? 

Without waiting to answer his own questions, he 
followed the bent of his will, and found Libby Denwitt 
unfeignedly glad to see him. She went with him in 
the old deacon’s sleigh, as freely and frankly as he had 
asked her. 

u I’m right glad you come,” said Martha : “ it will 
cheer her up wonderful. What with the drive home, 
and hanging about father, she’s just about used up.” 

And it did “ cheer her up ” surely. She was trying 
lately to drive those wearisome thoughts from her 
mind, and follow blindfold wherever her dear Lord 
might lead her. If this friend, who knew so well all 
that was in her heart, chose to give her a helping hand, 
she thanked him kindly. 

It was less bitterly cold that afternoon than it had 
been for a few weeks past; and they drove a long 
distance, without any feeling of weariness. Meantime 
a great many topics were brought up and discussed, — 
Mr. Denwitt’s illness, and the new gentleness which 
was overgrowing the rougher nature of this blind old. 
man ; that childlike trust with which he accepted 
and clung to the greatest mysteries of God’s covenant ; 
then they talked of Libby’s visit with its pleasant rest- 
fulness, of all the parish and sabbath-school matters, 
and of Libby’s class in particular. Once only John 
Hildreth was mentioned ; and then Libby spoke of 
him quietly, as of an absent friend, while the man who 
sat beside her thought in his heart, with a great, joyous 


A VICTORY WHICH WAS ALMOST A DEFEAT. 257 

throb, “ The old wound is healing over : where it is 
wrong to love, she soon forgets, for she is young.” 

If he had called to mind his knowledge of human 
nature, and the “ natural man ” in even his own heart, 
he might have reasoned otherwise, “She is young: 
therefore it is just where it is wrong to love that she 
finds it hardest to forget.” 

Meanwhile, with all her strength, she was pushing 
from her a memory which she would not look in the 
face. 

“ Now that you have come home, I hope we shall 
see you back in sabbath school,” he said to her after a 
while. 

“ Oh, yes, indeed ! what else have I to do ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Then you enjoy teaching the little ones, after all, 
Miss Libby.” 

“Yes: I have you to thank for that pleasant oppor- 
tunity, Mr. Hilton. I should never have reached out 
my hand to it, unless it had been thrust upon me.” 

“ Some must always have greatness thrust upon 
them, you know, because they would never go seeking 
it of their own free will,” he answered her with a 
pleasant smile. “It seems to me you have an unques- 
tionable talent, Miss Libby, for teaching 4 young ideas 
to shoot.’ ” 

“ No, oh, no ! you are kind ; but I am afraid not,” 
she replied quickly. 

“ You have the modesty to say this, notwithstanding 
the change in that little class of yours? ” 

“ I know that I love them. It never seemed to me 
I was of much use to them or to any one else.” 

She was not speaking that he might contradict her 


258 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


words ; lie knew that very well : rather because she 
believed what she was saying, in her inmost soul. 

44 4 Or to any one else,' ” he repeated, and his thoughts 
were far reaching and very intent that moment. 

44 Do you think I might be of more use in the 
world? ” she asked. 44 1 really want to be, and it seems 
to me I am so worthless ! ” 

Then quite against his will, only borne beyond his 
strength for a moment by the love in his heart, and 
the magic of those two wistful eyes which questioned 
his own, he answered, — 

44 1 think you might be all the sunshine of a life- 
time to me, if you tried it, Libby.” 

44 Mr. Hilton ! ” 

44 Yes, to me : forgive me, dear.” 

She shivered and drew back, shamefaced and 
silent ; reading his meaning now, as she might have 
been able to read it from the first, you think. 

44 It seems to me you must have known it, Libby, 
how I have loved you always, since I came here.” 

She clasped her hands tightly under the buffalo- 
robes ; and, because she loved and esteemed him so well 
that her very heart bled for his sorrow, she could give 
him no answer at first. 

44 Forgive me,” he said gently, 44 we will never speak 
of it again. Try to forget it.” 

44 Yes ; but we shall speak of it now," she said 
earnestly, laying her hand on his knee. 44 1 have some- 
times thought you loved me ; but I fancied you under- 
stood so well, and knew about that bitter time last 
spring. I thought all your kindness was just the kind- 
ness of a friend.” 

44 So it was, Libby, the kindness of a friend to you : 


A VICTORY WHICH WAS ALMOST A DEFEAT. 259 

to me it was every tiling, I believe,” but he turned 
and looked at her with a smile. 

“It was very pleasant to think I might have a 
brother in you.” 

“ And no more ? ” It was half question, half asser- 
tion ; for, bitter though it might be, the truth became 
plain, that it must always be as it had seemed to him 
from the first, — no more. 

She shook her head sadly. “ Other women might 
be ready to change,” she said, “ but it is different 
with me ; for John and I have been lovers since we 
were little children, and it has never occurred to me 
to love any one else. I believe I am not much given 
to loving in that way,” she added with a rosy blush. 

And she might have said still further, though this 
was more than she knew, that in all New England, 
and farther yet, could scarcely be found such a loyal, 
faithful little heart as her own, where it once had 
chosen to love. 

“ Did you never think,” she asked, “.I mean, don’t 
you know, that opposition, more than any thing else, 
makes love grow and strengthen ? A love that would 
die of itself when left in peace, grows great and strong 
through fighting with itself. And would you be con- 
tent, Mr. Hilton, to take me just so, — what there is 
of me, Avith -only the quiet, sisterly love I could give 
you, knowing that my heart was far away, and would 
not be called home for you ? ” 

It may seem strange to you : yet he loved this little 
woman so completely, that even such poor share of her 
as this would have been a, sore temptation to him, 
and a temptation to which he would doubtless have 
succumbed if he might, and if he had been the only 
one to suffer. 


260 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


He checked liis horses, and turned toward her, his 
soul looking through his eyes deep into hers. 

“ I feel as if I owe you a great deal,” she said : 44 I 
feel that your friendship has been such a comfort to 
me, that I ought not to withhold any price in return. 
But would this be any reward, dear friend,” she 
asked in her old winsome way, laying her hand on his 
arm, 44 to see me every day, to have me share your 
duties with you, and yet to know that my dearest 
tenderness is all laid away from you, — always ? ” 

He shook his head sadly. He was not weak, only 
very patient and hopeful ; and any thing seemed a 
blessing which had to do with her. He could not 
realize that one woman could love more faithfully than 
her generation. If he once called her his wife, the 
love would follow quickly. But would that be just or 
right ? 

44 Little Libby,” he said, 44 don’t think of it another 
moment, I pray you. You owe me nothing in the 
world but a little friendship; and that you will give 
me always. For the rest, I will be content with a 
glimpse of your face now and then. Some day John 
Hildreth will come back to his Father’s house, and 
then — God bless you both, here and hereafter ! ” 

44 You are good ; oh, so good ! ” she said with a little 
quickly caught sob. 

44 1 am very selfish. God forgive me ! ” 

44 If it only might be true, — that you said.” 

44 It shall, God helping me,” he answered in his own 
soul. 

Philip Hilton’s heart was sad and heavy that night. 
But he prayed that through all his disappointment 
he might be led to feel that God had dealt with him 


A VICTORY WHICH WAS ALMOST A DEFEAT. 261 

in tenderness and love ; that he only refused him his 
wish, as a kind father denies a request of his child ; 
not through any desire to grieve or trouble him, but 
rather for wise reasons which the child cannot under- 
stand, but which will be all unfolded and clear to him 
by and by ; and though he desired, like a little child, 
to do God’s will perfectly, and submit to his teachings 
at all times, yet perhaps he hoped it might be in 
accord with that will, soon to take him from grace to 
glory. To “ depart, and be with Christ,” seemed to 
him “far better” than to struggle on, day after day, 
with his own rebellious heart. Yet, for all that, he 
would not shirk the struggle ; for he is little worthy 
of the Master’s smile, who longs for heaven through 
weariness of earth. 

But when, as the spring came on, his people urged 
his going off for a rest, instead of refusing their 
request as he had done the year before, he thanked 
them gladly, and prepared for his journey. 

It was still in the early spring : the winter’s chill 
had not worn away from the air, and the crocuses 
were only beginning to bloom, when Philip Hilton 
packed his little portmanteau, and took leave of South- 
cliff for a season. He had not spoken of his plans to 
any member of his congregation : no one was quite 
sure if he might not be going to Halifax or the Sand- 
wich Islands. A great many questions had been 
asked ; but he evaded or turned them aside, with a 
good-humored wilfulness, which exceedingly vexed 
some curious old ladies in his congregation, and highly 
amused some sarcastic old gentlemen, at the ladies’ 
expense. 

Even Libby Denwitt ventured to question him, the 


262 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


day before he left ; but she, as well as the others, had 
met with ill success. He had simply answered, — 

“ Some day, if I return in safety, I hope to tell you 
about it, Miss Libby.” 

And the farewell which he spoke to her was a very 
quiet one; for his heart had gone back within itself, 
and shut the door. 


SECRET SERVICE. 


263 


CHAPTER XIX. 


SECRET SERVICE. 


N the banks of the Potomac, one beautiful spring 



V_y day in this year of 1862, a large detachment of 
the Union army were waiting in anxious expectation, 
resting on their arms, in readiness for a battle which 
was promised to them daily. Meanwhile they had their 
drills and their picket duty ; they lounged about, wrote 
letters, and foraged, — where there was any thing worth 
the foraging, — and visitors came and went among them, 
bringing frequent messages and tidings from the home- 
world which they had left behind. 

Here was our little Southcliff party and their cap- 
tain, who had suddenly grown into a major. 

He was not much altered by this year of campaign 
life ; a little graver and more earnest, perhaps, from his 
dealing with such grave and earnest realities as danger 
and impending death, from standing face to face with 
eternity. 

A year ago he had threatened to become a hater of 
religion and all good things, if one good thing were 
denied him. At the time he had doubtless meant to 
accomplish his thoughtless threat ; but his evil sur- 
roundings had not quite prevailed over him, and over 
the prayers which went up for him daily, “ with strong 
cryings and tears,” from the little mountain village he 


264 


THE GOOD EIGHT OE EAITH. 


had deft. Though they never reached his ear, yet, if 
they reached the ear of God, what mattered it ? 

It was just at sunset, on one of those days of waiting. 
An afternoon inspection being over, the “boys ” lounged 
about in the open air, smoking, reading, and jesting 
with each other. John Hildreth was always a prime 
favorite, both with equals and inferiors ; but, feeling ill- 
humored and unsociable this afternoon, he had slipped 
off into the woods until the crowd had deserted his 
tent, when he slipped quietly back, and took full pos- 
session. He found a letter from his mother awaiting 
him, and soon became so absorbed in the reading of it, 
that he failed to notice steps on the threshold of his 
tent until a shadow fell across his face. Then, looking 
up quickly, he saw what seemed to him a vision of the 
Southcliff “parson,” more substantial than the most of 
visions, which walked into his sanctum with all the 
sang-froid of an old, experienced soldier. 

“ Hilton ! is it possible ! ” cried John. “We live in an 
age of wonders. I beg your pardon ; but we were 
none of us expecting a visit from Southcliff.” 

He rose and gave his hand to his unexpected visitor, 
while certain questions trembled on his tongue, as to 
whether “ the parson,” like a faithful patriarch, had 
come to look after these stray members of his family, 
and to guard against their tripping too grossly. Never- 
theless his respect for Mr. Hilton was sufficiently 
strong to forbid his putting these questions into words. 

“ How does old Southcliff prosper ? ” he asked. 

“ Southcliff is active in every good work, as I think 
the flannel shirts and many other things have abun- 
dantly proven to her sons.” 

“Blessings on Southcliff!” said John good-humored- 


SECRET SERVICE. 


265 


ly. “ She is trying to be a true mother to most un- 
worthy sons. But you, sir, have you come to bring us 
admonitions in her name, and wish us good-speed in 
the coming battle ? Don’t scorn a soldier’s hospitality 
if it is onty a three-legged stool.” 

Mr. Hilton smiled, and accepted the proffered hospi- 
tality. 

“ I had some special business at the front,” he said. 
“ It was business of no mean import, surely ; and, be- 
sides, I pleased myself with the thought that a little 
home gossip and the sight of a familiar face might not 
come amiss.” 

“ Yes : it’s a good thing to see a face from home,” 
said John evasively : “ you have no mind to handle a 
musket yourself, I suppose.” 

“ Seriously, I am afraid I have quite too great a mind 
to handle one. I have been obliged to vent my shoot- 
ing propensities on grouse and woodcock, as long as 
they lasted.” 

If John Hildreth could once have stood by, and 
watched this parson of his bring down the • grouse and 
woodcock in those Southcliff woods, there would have 
been no further question in his own mind, as to the 
clearness of Philip Hilton’s eye, or the firmness of his 
nerves. 

“ A pity you should not have enlisted, then,” he said. 

“ Well, so I have, Mr. Hildreth ; in fact, I am sent 
at present on an important mission.” 

John raised his eyebrows for an instant in unfeigned 
surprise. 

“ I wish you all success,” he said carelessly then. 
“ I’m sure I hope you may have it ; and I’m right glad 
to see you, Hilton. The sight of a familiar face is, as 

23 


266 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


you say, exceedingly welcome. But, as there is serious 
business on foot just now, I must beg you to excuse 
me for a while. Look up the other boys : they will all 
be glad to see you.” 

This Philip proceeded to do, and found their ma- 
jor’s words quite fully verified. If there was a little 
coldness and unfriendliness in John’s manner, which 
perhaps might be true, he certainly found nothing of 
the kind among his other South cliff friends. Some of 
them had not yet recovered from their frequent attacks 
of homesickness, but found the tears rising fast to 
their eyes at sight of the home pastor. Certainly he 
had need to be well posted in parish affairs ; for each 
item must be retailed and enlarged upon, to every fresh 
comer. They were unwearied hearing news of friends 
and relations, of the talk concerning a new church, 
of the Christmas festival, the sewing-circle, or even 
of the depth of snow that had fallen in the winter, and 
the plentiful harvest of apples which had been gathered 
in the fall. Mr. Hilton was at his wits’ end for a 
while, for nothing that savored of home was unimpor- 
tant to these New England boys ; and questions of such 
trivial import that he was utterly unable to answer 
them were yet propounded with the utmost gravity. 

The days passed one after another, and still he lingered 
about the camp. Whatever might have been the im- 
portant mission with which he was intrusted, he was 
not speeding away to fulfil it. Once or twice John 
Hildreth thought of this, and wondered what Philip 
had meant ; wandered, too, if he were lingering day by 
day in hopes of seeing a battle in which he could not 
join. Yet they grew to be good friends in this closer 
intercourse ; and perhaps, in some faint degree, they 


SECRET SERVICE. 


267 


began to understand each other. Philip was not loun- 
ing about idly in the vineyard. At the request of 
some of “ the boys,” he held a little prayer-meeting with 
them daily ; and, on the one sabbath he was with them, 
preached a sermon which was full of the truest elo- 
quence, because it was warm from the very depths of 
his heart. They were on the eve of a battle : many 
who heard him then would never hear another sermon 
in their lives ; and, knowing this, he showed them very 
clearly the two realities of life and death, and bade 
them choose between them. He told them, with a 
yearning pathos which he felt in every fibre of his 
frame, of the pitiful Saviour, who even at this eleventh 
hour stood waiting with outstretched arms, to receive 
all wandering souls who would come back to his Father’s 
house. Great, heavy sobs from some of these strong- 
breasted fellows, told of the yearning in their wander- 
ing souls to come. 

But, lest they might not find the way, he’ sought 
them out, and tried to lead them thither. 

With one, above all others, he strove most earnestly. 
It was after the sermon, that he went off for a quiet 
walk by himself ; and, in a secluded spot by the river- 
bank, came suddenly upon John Hildreth, seated on a 
stone, looking over some old letters. 

“ I was thinking of you, Hildreth,” he said. 

“ I am scarcely worth the thought. However, think 
away. What was it about me, parson? ” 

44 1 was wondering that you never had any care for 
another life than this. Can a man of your mind and 
understanding be content with such a by-play, such a 
mere span of happiness, when a great eternity may 
begin for you to-morrow ? It is incomprehensible, 


2G8 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


John. Yon are' in the midst of hourly danger, as 
indeed we all are ; but any day you may have a bullet 
in your heart : and what then ? ” 

“ Then a fearful looking-for of judgment,” said John. 
44 I know it all, Hilton. Carelessness is incomprehensi- 
ble, surely ; rather, it would be incomprehensible, if I 
felt it. But, to my mind, there’s no soul in God’s 
universe which does not sometimes look forward with 
dread towards the future. He must be a half-idiot or a 
liar, who pretends to go through life like a child at 
a picnic, with no thought but for his dinner.” 

“ Then what is he who, after looking forward and 
realizing his position, goes on in the same old road ? ” 

“ A fool, of course. I don’t doubt that is what you 
mean ; even if some seeming wise-heads enter the list. 
I have been a fool. God help me ! And I shall doubt- 
less be a fool to the end of the chapter. 4 Let us eat 
and drink, for to-morrow we die.’ ” 

There was a strange bitterness in his voice, which 
touched Philip Hilton’s heart. 

“ Did you ever fully realize,” he asked, 44 that to die 
is not merely the mortal agony, the rending of soul and 
body, for such as you ? The real death comes after.” 

John rose, and began pacing restlessly up and down 
on the river-bank. 

44 Do you know that well-spread story of Miss Denwitt 
and myself?” he asked carelessly. 44 Rather, have you 
heard the truth of it ? Standing in the place of father 
confessor to Southcliff, doubtless you have all these 
little matters poured into your ears.” 

Philip’s face flushed hotly ; and, for one moment, his 
eyes gave an angry flush. Was this man, who could 
speak so carelessly of Libby and her love, one worthy 


SECRET SERVICE. 


269 


to stand between her and the true, honest heart that he 
himself could give her ? This was only for a moment. 

44 I beg your pardon, a hundred times,” John resumed 
presently, still pacing restlessly to and fro. 44 I am not 
fit company for a dog, this morning. But, Hilton, 
when a man sees religion thrust in between himself and 
the thing he loves best on earth, he’s not apt — at 
least, most men are not — to take to it very kindly.” 

Philip made no reply ; and after a moment his com- 
panion spoke again, — 

44 For all that, on my honor, sir, — and, above all, for 
the last few weeks, — I have felt a continual need of 
some strong power out of myself, to support and heal 
me. Sometimes I am almost in despair at the anger 
and crime that I feel in my heart.” 

u There is 4 balm in Gilead ’ for all such wounds, my 
friend,” said Philip, speaking gently. 

John faced upon him, and laughed bitterly. 

44 I think sometimes that I am shut out, as by a wall, 
from all such healing and strength. Can a man become 
a Christian for hire? We think not. For me, I have 
a very sweet reward waiting me. I have only to say, 
at any time, 4 1 am a Christian,’ and reach out my hand 
to take it. I pray you, parson, how can one forget 
the hire, in thinking of these things ? ” 

“ Possibly a child might not : it seems to me a 
strong man may,” said the brave young warrior from 
Southcliff. 

John flushed to his temples. 

“ I deserve it,” he said. 44 1 suppose I am a child in 
this matter, to all intents and purposes.” 

44 You misunderstand me, my dear fellow. Bather I 
meant that you, not being a child, might, with the help 


270 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


of God's grace, withstand and do valiantly. Put all 
thought of reward quite away from you, as though you 
were never to have a wife in all the years to come. 
Put any compulsion, any force, on yourself, rather than 
lose your soul through all eternity. The man is a 
pauper, who has 4 gained the whole world,’ and all the 
love there is in it, if he 4 lose his own soul.” 

John stood still, and looked over intently across the 
river. The rising tide broke gently over the sand; 
above was a line of intrenchments, where a solitary 
picket walked to and fro in the shadow of some over- 
hanging trees. Though his eyes took in the picture, his 
mind was very far away. 

44 Don’t give the Lord what costs you nothing. Be 
willing, like Abraham, even to sacrifice your dearest 
hopes to Him who counted not his life dear for us. Do 
not give him a half-service, John,” said Philip eagerly. 

14 Where I serve, I give the service of a whole heart,” 
said John: 44 so help me God ! ” He still stood looking 
across the river, with his hands folded behind him. 

44 Then it lies between you and your God,” said 
Philip reverently ; 44 and I beg, as a friend, that you 
will not wait to decide.” 

They walked back to the camp together, without 
either of them speaking a word. But that night, when 
all was hushed in sleep, and the full moon had risen 
over the river, the young officer came down again to the 
bank, to decide this momentous question between his 
God and himself. There, like Jacob, he wrestled until 
morning. If the struggle were a hard one, the 44 Father 
who seeth in secret ” hath mind of such earnest strug- 
gles, and there is rejoicing over them among his angels. 
With the first break of dawn over the hills, came a 


SECRET SERVICE. 


271 


victory greater than that which the day would bring 
forth for the army ; for, in the sight of God, one soul 
is worth more than all worldly honor and glory. 

But men thought most of the battle that day, — the 
music, and the forming in line. There was little thought 
for the few in that great army, who had just enlisted in 
a nobler cause, some of whom were so soon to go home 
to their crowns and triumph. 

Five minutes before- the line of battle was formed, 
Philip Hilton passed close by Major Hildreth. 

“ Good-by, my dear fellow,” said John cheerily. “ If 
you never see me again, give her my love, and ” — 

“ I will, indeed,” said Philip. 

“ And, Philip, if God spares me to-day, I shall give 
him a free, whole-hearted service ; if not, tell her the 
sting of death is gone, thank God ! May he bless you 
for the true fulfilment of your mission to me ! ” 


272 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH 


CHAPTER XX, 


HOME FROM THE FIGHT, 


IBBY DENWITT sat alone with “father,” one 



J-J quiet afternoon in spring, and read to him verses 
here and there, in St. John’s first epistle, — here and 
there, and back and forth and over again ; for the blind 
old man was learning, step by step, the first simple 
lessons of a learner in God’s school, and 44 a little child 
was leading him.” 

Martha had put on her bonnet, and run over to Mrs. 
Marsey’s to see how soon the 44 parson ” was expected 
back, and what news had been received from him, if 
any ; for he had been absent four sabbaths, and his 
people began to long again for the sound of his kindly 
voice, and the clasp of his hand. 

44 Lizabeth,” said the old man, 44 I’m a great sinner.” 

“ And Christ came for sinners,” she answered. 

“ I’ve been hard on you, too, little Lizzie,” he said. 

44 It is well to 4 endure hardness as a good soldier of 
Christ,’ ” she answered again, very gently. 

“ That John Plildreth,” he said, — “ now, if you want 
to have him, Lizzie, I won’t say you nay.” 

44 Yes, I know, father ; but he does not love my Mas- 
ter : so Christ says me nay, and I say nay to myself.” 

“Lizabeth,” he said presently, 44 read the story of 
the blind man, who sat by the highway side begging.” 


HOME FROM THE FIGHT. 


273 


She turned quickly to the story ; for the leaves of that 
Bible parted of themselves to the most welcome por- 
tions and the most acceptable words. 

“ 4 And it came to pass,’ ” she read, 44 4 that, as He was 
come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the 
wayside begging.’ ” 

As she read, she was conscious of the quiet opening 
of the door, and fancied that some one stood behind 
her. Martha, perhaps — who else? and she read on 
slowly with tears in her eyes, — 

44 4 And, hearing 'the multitude pass by, he asked what 
it meant.’ ” 

She turned quickly, conscious that it was not Martha 
behind her, and saw John Hildreth leaning against the 
door, with his right arm hanging in a sling, and his face 
exceedingly white and sorrowful. 

44 O John ! ” she cried, springing up, and laying her 
hand in his, 44 did you come out safe from the battle ? ” 

He took the hand she gave him, and pressed it closely : 
yet even then, with this dearest earthly prize attained, 
and the little hand, which by speaking a word he might 
freely keep, clasped close within his own, his eyes filled 
with tears, and his whole form was shaken with uncon- 
querable emotion. 

44 You are hurt,” she said gently, with the tenderest 
anxiety in her voice, and tears rising to her eyes. 
44 Oh ! tell me, what can I do ? ” 

He dropped her hand, dashed away the tears from 
his own eyes, and paced up and down the small sitting- 
room for a moment or two in silence. 

44 Who is that? who is that? ” asked the blind man. 

44 It is John Hildreth, sir,” the young man answered, 
taking in his the withered hand that reached out, feel- 
ing through the air. 


274 


THE GOOD FIGHT OF FAITH. 


“ Welcome home, John. I don’t bear any grudges 
now. God shut my eyes up, but he opened the eyes of 
my soul. 4 Jesus of Nazareth ’ touched them, you see.” 

“ And mine” was the answer, spoken very gently. 

Turning then, he took Libby’s hand again in his. 

“ No, Libby,” he said, “ I am not seriously hurt. It 
is not of me you must think now. I have brought 
Philip Hilton home, — listen, Libby, I have brought him 
home, — and we can never thank him, in this world, 
for giving his life for you and me.” 

“ Philip Hilton ! for you and me ! ” she repeated, 
quite bewildered and amazed. 

Then John sat down and told them the story, — all 
that we have heard, and more ; how at length Philip’s 
heart’s desire had been granted, and he had felt that 
Grod called him to serve himself, through rendering 
some little service to his country, — that the service of 
God and her had become, for a moment, one. He had 
gone fearlessly about, all through that close-fought 
battle, helping to carry off the wounded, showing 
Christ to the dying, and speaking God’s words of peace 
and mercy to all those drifting souls who would turn 
to their Deliverer; hoping that haply one or two of 
those wayward ones might at this eleventh hour be led 
homeward. At last, toward the close of the fight, he 
was struck down by one of the enemy’s bullets. 

He had lain for hours before they found him, having 
used all his remaining strength to creep under the 
shadow of a little hillock hard by the place where he 
fell. There he turned his face over on his arm, thank- 
ing God that he had been counted worthy to give his 
life for him and his country. 

The weary hours rolled very slowly by, while he 


HOME FROM THE FIGHT. 


275 


thought that each would surely be his last on earth. 
A burning fever parched his lips, and the pain of his 
wound had almost deadened his knowledge of the out- 
ward world. He seemed carried back, in a waking 
dream, to the days of his childhood, to his mother who 
had taught him to Hove her God with the tenderness 
and faith of a little child, and his country with the 
courage of a patriot. He re-lived all the bright dreams 
and hopes of his manhood, even his later longing love, 
which now seemed softened and dimmed, that he might 
look at it without regret or fear, — a something which 
belonged to the world he was leaving. 

There came an hour at sunset, when the cool evening 
air blew the mist, for a while, from his eyes ; when, 
looking up, he saw the golden beauty in the west, with 
the crimson, like the foundations of the New Jerusa- 
lem ; and it seemed to him that he could almost discern, 
like Jacob, the angels coming and going through the 
glory, each bearing the soul of some “ soldier of God,” 
who had that day fallen for his country ; and he thanked 
God, that, whether dead or alive, John Hildreth had 
joined that mighty army, in which all his ransomed 
ones in “ heaven or earth ” are named. 

“ They are coming for me soon,” he thought. “ Dear 
Lord, thou knowest that the fight was sore sometimes 
with the world and sin ; but I thank thee that thou 
hast so many times given me the victory. I thank thee 
heartily for thy last great blessing, that thou hast led 
John Hildreth home.” 

He was willing to struggle on, and fight to the end, 
this soldier, for the Leader who was dearer to him than 
any thought of wife or home ; but if the conflict was 
over, and the triumph prepared, he was ready. 


276 


THE GOOD EIGHT OF FAITH. 


The glory dazzled him, but a great sense of peace 
came over his spirit ; when he bowed his head in weari- 
ness, he thought to waken in the beautiful city of God. 

It was then that they found him ; and in the early 
morning he died in John Hildreth’s arms. 

“ I know he fought a good fight,” said John ; “ and 
for his sake, Libby, who won you for me, I claim you 
now ; and I promise — so help me God — never again 
to tempt this little soldier from fulfilling any order 
that her Captain may send. I see now that all was 
right, and can thank God even for the sermon that 
warned you against me, darling.” 

“ And so I have a little of my laurel even here,” she 
said, looking up through her tears ; “ and Mr. Hilton 
has his crown of life, and his prize of the high calling 
of God in Christ Jesus.” 














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